Years Gone Bye
by Lena Fields
Summary: Eight years after the events of season three, Rick and Carl are the only ones left of their original group that are still roaming the former United States, fighting of walkers. They left Daryl and his new-found family six years ago on an island just of shore, where they have settled a blossoming colony. Now, it is time for Rick and Carl to join them. Can they adapt? Short story.
1. Reunion

**Chapter 1. Reunion**

A tiny little girl in a white dress sat in front of the opened gate to the house. She could not be older then about two, but already had a beautiful head full of curls and was fervently playing with a doll. When she heard them approaching, she looked up. Rick stopped his pace and stared at her. He couldn't have told anyone what the feeling was that crept up to him and settled somewhere in his throat. He was staring into a pair of eyes that he had seen before. Next to him, Carl stopped to look as well. His face showed the same recognition. "Rose," he muttered. The little girl stretched out the doll. "You play?" she asked, eyes shiny, and when they didn't respond, "You like dolls?", as she started pushing herself upwards, stumbling a little like toddlers do.

Rick slowly dropt to his knees so he could sit in front of her, looking into her pretty face. He stretched out his hand and gently touched her arm. Shivers went through him. He opened his mouth to ask, but it had gone dry. How many people hadn't he asked in the past years where their family members were? If they could lead them to their friends? If this was the home of their parents, brothers, wife, fiancé? And how many eyes hadn't turned numb, how many times hadn't he heard muttered words, or simply nothing at all? Could he face asking this girl that question, could he face her eyes numbing, her reply? What reply was a two-years-old going to give to such a question in the first place? Would she even know? But before he could ask her anything, he heard a scream.

"Let go of her!"

He and Carl both turned, automatically clutching their guns, to see a little boy coming out of the nearby bushes. He was tiny as well, about six or seven, rather thin and wearing a shirt over his pants that was way too big for him. In his hands, he somehow managed to wield a wooden bow that must be far too heavy. But his look was fierce and they were experienced enough not to hesitate.

"I said: let go of her! Get your hands of!"

Rick immediately let go of both his gun and the girl, whose eyes had gone wide with fear. Slowly, he raised his hands upwards and started rising. The girl turned around and ran towards the boy, hiding behind him and peering anxiously past his legs, clutching her doll.

"What were you doing? Who are you?"

"Look," Rick started, "we don't want any trouble. We are here to talk to…" He hesitated. Did he want to know?

The boy raised up the wooden bow a bit further. Then they heard a voice coming from the house.

"Fredrick! Freddy! Sweetie, what's going..." The woman whom the voice belonged to stopped dead halfway through her garden path, looking at the two men besides the fence. She had her arms wrapped around her body, a strange, defenceless look for someone finding strangers at her gate talking to her children. She stared at them, her mouth dropping a little. Her eyes, the exact same green colour and almond shape as those of her daughter, widened. Then she started running towards them.

"Rick!"

When she reached him, she threw herself in his arms. It took him a while to react. His arms had lost the possibility of a hug, his mind lost the imagination of being welcomed. But his nose hadn't forgotten her smell, his eyes hadn't forgotten what she looked like, even now she looked so much stronger, and older, as well. Six years older, to be precise. When his hands found her back, she turned her face to look him in the eyes, tears shimmering on her cheeks. "Rick," she muttered, and then again, "Rick…" for a second, her hand softly touched his cheek, then she turned towards Carl, who hadn't moved.

"Carl! Sweet, beautiful Carl! Look how grown up you are!" She hugged him as he stood frozen, allowing her touch but not reacting to it. She looked at him for a second, then turned towards the little boy and girl. The boy still had his bow raised and the girl was still clutching his jeans with her hand. "Turn that bow _away_, Freddy, what _have _I been telling you about that?" And then, turning to Rick, wiping her eyes, "don't worry about the arrows though, they're fake. He wanted real ones like his dad, but I wouldn't have it. Fredrick, these men are Rick and Carl. You knew them when you were a little baby. They protected you and kept you safe."

The boy nodded, lowering the giant toy bow. "Alright then. I'm going hunting." And he turned, running back into the bushes again, his mother looking after him with a little smile.

"He's a wild one, you know, just like his dad," she said, half apologetic, half amused. "But this one, you haven't met." She bent over to pick up the little girl in her arms. "This is my daughter, Molly. Molly, say hi to our guests." The girl didn't move. "Well," Rose said. "I think Freddy scared her again. She _does_ follow him in practically everything, you know." She turned towards them and her face grew worried. "But you should definitely come in. Have a drink. Tell me…" She stopped, and Rick understood why. He understood the questions that she wanted to ask, but simply couldn't. The fact that he and Carl were here alone, looking ragged, told her more than she wanted to know. She swallowed, and said: "He is alive. Daryl. He is alive. I expect him home in a few hours." She looked at them for only a second, then her face lit up again, although the smile didn't reach her eyes. "Come in the house. I have fresh juice." And she turned around, walking towards the house. The little girl in her arms stared at them over her shoulder. Then she stuck out one of her arms, making a grabbing movement with her hand. It was enough invitation. Rick and Carl followed.

Inside, they found the house big, yet strangely cosy. They followed Rose through a dark hallway past a dining room with fireplace into a small kitchen. The kitchen seemed so very ordinary, that it was almost extraordinary to see. The only things that showed that it could have looked different were a newly built stove that had replaced part of the kitchen dresser, and the candles spread throughout the room. Rick looked around and saw a big, green cupboard standing in the corridor. A shock went through him when he remembered its colour. That was the exact same, soft green cupboard that had stood there when they found the place deserted six years ago. It made him realise that they were in the same house, a house that he had thought 'ordinary'. But six years ago, it had been everything but that. It had been layered in thick dust, doors and windows had been jammed closed and the smell of rot had hung around them like a thick cloud attacking their brains. Now, it smelt like freshly baked bread and flowers.

Rose took a pile of glasses and a jug filled with red coloured juice from the green cupboard, pouring the juice into the glasses. "Are you hungry? We have food. Do you want something to eat?" Rick merely shook his head, and Carl did nothing at all, remaining close to the door. His hands hadn't moved from the clutch of his gun. Rose glanced at it. Behind her, little Molly was peering around the kitchen doorway. Rick carefully lowered his own gun from his back and put it on the kitchen dresser. Then he sat down. Rose smiled grimly, and brought Carl his glass before sitting down and drawing her daughter on her lap. She looked like the perfect, young mother. She had cut her chestnut hair into a short crop, curling just slightly around her face. Rick couldn't even remember the last time he had seen someone looking so much like… like a _person_.

"How are you?"

Silence.

"I'm sorry," Rose said. "That is such a stupid question to ask."

It was silent for a while, and nothing was heard but the sound of them drinking. The juice was cool, but that was the only thing he could taste about it. Rose tried again. "The others…" she fell silent.

"We left Beth and Glenn a while ago. With Judy." Rick couldn't help himself from glancing towards Molly for a second. He was very grateful that Rose didn't pull the girl tighter towards her chest. Instead, she reacted, surprised: "_Beth_ and Glenn?" but then lowered her gaze and didn't ask any further. If he mentioned only them, enough should be inclined. Instead, Rose continued: "Tell me what I can do for you. You don't have to tell me anything else. Do you want food, a bed, water? You can stay for as long as you want. Please. What can I do?"

"I…" Rick started. "I… we're very tired. Carl and me. We're just… so tired."

"Off course," Rose said. "Please, follow me." She got up and walked towards the hallway, Molly so close behind her that she nearly trotted on her mothers heels. Rose didn't turn to see whether the men were following. Carl looked at Rick, and when the latter nodded and got up, he followed, putting his glass of juice untouched on the kitchen table, taking his father's gun. They followed Rose back into the hallway and then up the stairs. On the landing, a door opened into a spacious room, where two beds stood not far apart, covered in soft blankets. The room had nice, pinkish carpet on it and floral curtains hung in front of the windows. Rick stopped for a moment, then staggered towards one of the beds and dropped down.

* * *

When he woke up, it was still light. He knew he couldn't have been sleeping more than a few hours – he never slept more than a few hours – but he felt very awake. Around him, the house had never gone to sleep. He heard footsteps downstairs and people talking, laughing even. He smelled something remarkably good. He sat up and saw Carl sitting straight on the bed, the gun still in his hands. He looked uncomfortable and had obviously not slept. "I heard a motorcycle a while ago," he said, "but I stayed here to keep watch." Rick wanted to tell Carl that he thought they wouldn't need to keep watch, but instead, he got out of bed. "Then I think the master of the house is home, and we should go and say hello." Carl nodded and got up. Rick turned before he opened the door. "Leave the gun." It was a clear order, and Carl put the gun back on the bed, but didn't take out his other, smaller gun, the one he had held with him for the last eight or nine years at least.

On the corridor, they could hear voices coming from the kitchen. He hesitated at the top of the stairs. What were they supposed to do? Just walk into the kitchen and grab a seat? Announce their arrival in some way? He straightened his shoulders and walked down. Downstairs, the smell of food became much stronger, and Rick noticed that he was hungry. They found the hallway empty but for the little boy, who was sitting on the floor, playing with the wooden bow with fake arrows. As soon as he saw them, he jumped upwards and screamed "Dad! Dad!" running in the direction of the kitchen. The voices fell silent. Then, a man stepped into the hall. He was tall, kind of impressive looking, wearing a jeans and a clean shirt, the sleeves rolled up. The man walked forwards with quick steps and embraced him. "Rick! Rick, man! You are here! You are really here man…" Rick looked at the man's eyes in wonder. This man, that seemed so much part of this house, was this him? But the eyes confirmed that question, just as the long scar across his face did. "And Carl…" Daryl embraced Carl as well, then stepped back to put his hand softly on his wife's arm, who had appeared behind him. She smiled at them. "Dinner's ready," she said, and nodded at the dining room.

* * *

It was clear that Rose wasn't going to let the opportunity slip by to feed them, and feed them well. She had made soup, followed by large plates full of hot potatoes, vegetables and meat. He couldn't remember the last time he had had so much food. Next to him, Carl had finally succumbed and fed quickly, using his hands and stuffing himself nearly without swallowing. Little Fredrick across the table stared wide eyed at Carl's table manners and then glanced at his mother, who raised one eyebrow as she caught Freddy's look. He lowered his eyes and grabbed his fork. Rick himself ate slowly, trying to use the fork and knife. He found it hard to look at the family around him. Rose helped her daughter eat while chatting to her husband, Molly was playing with her food, and again, they looked simply too ordinary to be real. He and Carl didn't follow in their conversation. Freddy, who spoke very little, glanced at their faces from time to time. After dinner, Rose had her children help tidy up the table and the kitchen (little Fredrick again peered from Rose to Carl, who remained seated, his back still unnaturally straight). They were left alone. Rick coughed and got up. "Come on, Carl," he whispered, and lifted up a few plates while walking towards the kitchen. Carl grabbed the first thing next to him – a water jug – and followed his father.

When they walked into the kitchen, the family was happily chattering amongst themselves, but fell quiet when they saw them entering. "Please, no," Rose said, and took the plates and the jug from their hands. She then looked at her husband and made a small movement with her head. Daryl nodded and gestured at Rick and Carl to follow him. They were lead through the corridor into a small bathroom. "Streaming water," Daryl said proudly. He gestured towards a pile of clothing and two thick towels lying on top of a chair. "Go ahead." He went out and closed the door behind him. Carl walked towards the shower and turned the shrieking knob. Water started running. Rick looked at Carl's face, but it remained straight.

They both used the shower – though leaving the soap that stood next to it untouched – and then dressed into the clothing laying on the chair. They were a bit too wide, especially for Rick, and the jeans lain out for Carl were too short. It couldn't have been otherwise. Carl really had grown tall.


	2. Every Fucking Day

**Chapter 2. Every Fucking Day**

When Daryl walked back into the kitchen, Rose was standing near the sink, chattering with the children while washing up the plates. Fred and Molly were sitting at the kitchen table, playing with some rocks Daryl had taken with him from the woods, or rather, Fred was playing excitedly while Molly was observing, sucking her thumb and clutching the doll, Randy. Daryl smiled. It was a god-awful name for a doll – especially since it was female – but Fred had made it up, and so Molly thought it very beautiful from the start. Rose had tried to give it another name, but had finally succumbed to Randy, providing it would be short for Miranda. This seemed to have satisfied both parties, although the name Miranda had never been used again.

Daryl sighed as he thought about Rick and Carl. What had they been doing? Were had they been the past few years? What dangers had they fought while he remained here, what losses had they suffered he might have prevented? But he knew he couldn't think that way. Back when they settled here, he hadn't just stepped back for Rick, he would have loved to have supported him as the lead of the settlement. He'd been happy to do so, in fact. But Rick had refused. Together with some of the others, they had decided to leave. Of the original group, it had only been Carol who had remained behind with them.

Somehow, he had been bombarded to lead the settlement, and in the end, it was fine to him. He had known that this was the best place for them – Rose and lil' Fred, who could barely walk back then – so how could he have chosen otherwise? He had been lucky, and he would cherish that luck. In the time they now referred to as 'Before', he had been nothing. No one. Meaningless. Now he was everything to everyone of the nearly 2.000 that the settlement now counted. He was everything to his son. And since two years, he had had even more luck, the luck of becoming everything to his little dreamer as well, his Molly, who looked so perfectly like her mom. As he thought about them, he knew that at least for the rest of his life, he would be grateful every day. Every fucking day.

"Love." Rose put the towel she had been drying with away and held out her hand. He grabbed it. It was still warm and soft from the hot water. He pulled his wife towards him and kissed her full on the mouth. Rose smiled, surprised – she wasn't used to such spontaneous kissing. "Dad – yuck!" Fred complained from the kitchen table. Daryl snorted and turned to leave, but Rose stopped him.

"You have to ask them, you know," she said, "Or at least talk to them. I don't know. They were here so suddenly… we haven't heard from them in years, they decided to stay on the mission, and then out of the blue, they turn up. What are their plans? Are they going to stay? God knows I would want them to. But I just don't know… what to do."

"It'll be fine," he reassured her.

But when he stood outside a moment later, listening to the crickets and watching the starry sky, he wasn't so sure whether it would ever be fine again. Both Rick and Carl had had their moments of madness in the past – several of them, as he could remember. It would only make sense if by now the madness would be permanent. Back in the days, they had always been the quiet types, but certainly not _that_ quiet.

He went behind the house into the garden and got a few dusty bottles from out of the small shed. Then he turned to the veranda to light some of the candles that stood on the tiny table. He had made that table one year ago with Fred, so Molly would have a table that fitted her size. He smiled when he remembered Fred's pride and Molly's shiny eyes when she first saw the little table. Staring into the flames, he remembered the first time he had seen those eyes.

She had been amongst the Woodbury inhabitants. She had been prettier, smarter and sweeter than any woman he had ever met. Her eyes had left burning marks inside his head and her name had resonated in his chest. Rose. But her being a girl and lovely and all that, he never gave it any serious thought, until the day she had walked up to him and asked him if he would give her a ride. By the time the group left the prison, the back of his motorcycle had become her personal spot.

In the beginning, it had already been hard enough for him to believe that there was a woman in the world so young and so beautiful and yet so capable of loving him, and so he had nearly fallen apart when only a few months later she had told him that she was pregnant, and that she meant to keep the kid. His kid. He ran away, came back, ran away again, and then asked Rose to marry him. When she had said yes – another mystery – he had known that as of that day, it would be his goal in life to keep his little family safe. He would need a place to store them – Rose and Fred, the little lump inside Rose's tummy – and that's how he'd come up with the idea of an island.

He'd had no idea why the others had been so opposed to it at first. They had been afraid that any island would have either been overrun beyond repair, or that it would be a second Woodbury, complete with crazy ass governor. An even if it was safe, what would they do in case of an outbreak? Swim and drown? But in the end, it had been Rick's idea to take this island. It consisted of a group of lands, two very small ones and a bigger island. The bigger one, this one, had indeed been overrun, but the smallest island, empty of any buildings, had been free. They used it as a getaway the first months, working from that windy piece of land to killing off all the walkers on the big island. Daryl had taken this house for Rose and the newborn Fred, because Rose loved it at first sight, and the others had chosen houses of their own.

He had always figured that would be the end of it. When he held Fred in the morning and kissed Rose's hair, promising he would be back that night, he could not imagine there could be anything else in the world that needed his attention more. But Rick had gone restless, and together with Carl, Maggie, Glenn, Beth, and, despite Rose and Carol's heavy protests, Judy, they had left on what they called their 'mission': returning to the mainland, finding anyone alive they could, checking if they seemed safe, and sending them to the Island if they did. Rick and Daryl had parted without angry feelings on either side; rather, it had been mutual comprehension. Daryl had found his first home – while Rick had lost his.

Daryl was left to take care of the Island's inhabitants, and over the last six years, they had slowly expanded, with more and more people from the mainland dripping in. At some point, people from as far as southern Mexico had been arriving at their Island. Many of them had been send by the mission, others had heard from the Island by again others, and some had even found the Island on their own. There had been small groups, big groups, individuals. There were some families, but mostly people who had by chance formed a group, like their own. Some people had lived in other safe places, that were smaller or less stable than the Island, others had had no idea there could ever be something remotely like a safe place. Today, the Island could even be called crowded – although their little house still stood all by itself on its very own hill. Daryl smiled. It had been the perfect choice, and he now understood that Rose truly loved him – she had chosen this place not just because she liked it, but also because it fitted Daryl the same way his rolled-up sleeves did. It was home.

* * *

When Rick and Carl walked out onto the veranda, directed by Rose who had gone to bring the kids to bed, Daryl was waiting for them. He opened the bottles and gave them one each.

"Beer," he smiled proudly. "Saved it for the right occasion, didn't I?"

They all had a beer, sitting next to each other awkwardly. Carl was eerily quiet, and Rick looked like he was trying very hard to think of the right thing to say, but just couldn't come up with it. He finally scraped his throat. "You're family looks great. Fredrick… Freddy really looks like his dad. And Molly… I can't even start about how lovely Molly is."

Daryl felt pride bubbling in his chest. "Me neither," he said, sipping from the beer. Then his face darkened a little. He continued: "I'm still afraid to leave them you know. Every morning. Every morning I leave for the woods or the town, I ask myself again why I do it. Whether I'm crazy or something. They are – really everything that matters, you know. And they are so defenceless. Rose still refuses to carry a gun. In fact, Fred is the only one armed around here when I'm gone, and he is seven fucking years old."

"Armed?" Rick said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, well. You know. That bow of his."

"But I thought those were fake… Ah." Comprehension dawned on Rick's face.

"Don't tell Rose though," Daryl sniggered, taking another sip. "She'd have me killed first thing."

Rick smiled too, and both looked at Carl to see if he would share the smile, but his expression hadn't changed. After a while, Rick put away his beer.

"Daryl, we might stay."

Daryl felt his muscles tighten a little.

"You mean… on the Island?"

Rick nodded.

"Judy… we lost her."

A painful silence followed. The only sound to be heard was the sound of the crickets in the background.

"We thought…"

Carl coughed loudly. Rick glanced at him before continuing.

"I mean, _I_ thought we had to come here. So we might stay."

Daryl knew he was supposed to be the happiest man alive right now, yet he felt strangely uneasy. Like this was some sort of bad omen. Angry with himself for thinking that, he smiled a crooked smirk and tried to put away these thoughts.

"Well, you're very welcome, man. Your house is still there. You know. The one you picked out when we first came here. The one next to Carol's. Better take you there first thing tomorrow anyway. She'll be damned pleased."

* * *

The next morning at the breakfast table, neither Rick or Carl ate much. Daryl could imagine that. He remembered that after the first year here, when the crops had finally started growing, he had needed a long time to get used to being regularly fed again, and that he hadn't felt hungry most of the times they had a meal. Rose was moving a lot, which she usually did when she was nervous. She kept glancing at Daryl. He had told her last night in bed what Rick had told him. He was afraid she was going to say something, and his fears came true when she drew a deep breath and said nervously: "Freddy darling, why don't you take Molly upstairs to dress?"

Fred, who had been staring at Carl again, looked up in surprise. "Me?" he said. "But why…?" Then he saw his mother's look and got up quickly. "Come on, Molly," he murmured, and grabbed her by the hand. When they had left, Rose turned to Rick.

"Rick. I'm so sorry about Judy. Daryl told me you said she's g…"

"She's not gone."

They all jumped a little, including Rick. It was the first thing Carl had said to them since their arrival here.

"She's not gone," he repeated, "we just lost her. We left her with Beth and Glenn on the old farm, and when we came back a few months later, they were gone. We searched the area for a long time. No traces of blood, no walkers to be found nowhere, at least none that was Judy or Beth or Glenn. They just left and we can't find them."

Silence. Rose swallowed. "How long…"

"Three years," Rick said. "We lost them three years ago."

The legs of Carl's chair scraped over the kitchen floor as he stood up, knocking over his glass of milk. He slammed the door when he ran outside. Rick didn't look at Daryl or Rose, but followed Carl quickly. Rose softly touched Daryl's hand. He knew what that touch meant, and he knew what Rick's words meant as well. Like himself and Rose, Rick thought that they were likely dead.


	3. The Colour of Dark Honey

**Chapter 3. The Colour of Dark Honey**

"If you _dare_ take that horse today, you do not have to return to this house, mister!" Carol screamed.

"Well, _she's_ got one!" Jules shouted back.

"That's different and you damn well know it! _She's_ got a trained one and even if not, she has been working with the horses a lot longer than you have! You do _not_ go into the forest alone on a new horse. And anyway, it's your breakfast duty today."

"You never let me have anything! You're mean!" Jules stomped up the stairs with so much noise that Carol saw dust and even a spider falling to the ground. She sighed and turned around towards the kitchen, that was still full of breakfast plates and cups. Where was Tom anyway, who was supposed to be on breakfast duty this week with Jules? When she went outside to try and find him, she wondered how she could have ever thought she had a busy life back when she had had only one kid living at home. Now she had thirteen of them and a fulltime job aside. It was a miracle she still had some sort of social life going on. Well, she knew it was partly because of them all being twelve plus and well able to take care of themselves, but still. She loved all of them, but on mornings like these, she was happy she had taught herself to stand her ground.

She walked outside and saw the _she_ they had been arguing about just coming out of the woods on one of the horses. She waved at Carol and then quickly galloped in her direction. Carol tried not to have favourites, but she couldn't help really liking Tai. Tai was quicker and wittier than the rest of them, and she had also been the first one Carol took in.

When Tai reached her, she asked, "how was your date yesterday?".

"O, pretty much like the others," Carol smiled. "Took me out to Harly's _again_. I don't think it's going to work out. Just have to tell him that."

Tai laughed. "You're such a serial dater! Anyways, you have a visitor." Her face lit up, excitedly. "Daryl is coming, and he's taken the car!"

Carol turned to face the road. Tai was right, Daryl's old car just raced around the corner and came for the direction of their house. She frowned. No one on the Island ever took the car. There were cars, certainly, but the fuel had to be saved. The Islanders usually took horses or bikes or went by foot. And even if he went driving, Daryl was always on his motorcycle anyway. They sometimes took it together to the weekly town's meetings, that were just too far to walk. The only time in the last six years on the Island she had seen him in that car was about a year ago, when little Molly had come up with a sudden fever. What on earth could be going on now?

The car turned into their underused driveway and stopped. When she looked through the dirty window, she saw that Daryl wasn't alone. Rose was sitting next to him in the driver's seat. She had little Molly on her lap. Freddy was in the back of the car, flanked by two men sitting on either side of him. Carol squeezed her eyes together to try and see who they were, but the front window was to dirty to see through. The backdoor opened and a skinny man with a big, tangled grey beard got out. He moved slowly, as though it hurt him, and he blinked his eyes against the bright sunlight. She felt her jaw dropping when she recognised him.

"Rick?"

* * *

Rick walked forwards shyly. He saw a girl with hair the colour of dark honey sitting on a horse, and Carol next to her. He had to look twice to make sure it was really Carol. She looked very different. Her clothes were tight and stylish, and her white hair was up in small spikes. She didn't move. If he had expected anyone to come up to him and hug him, it had been Carol. But not this Carol. She stood there, arms crossed, looking pissed rather than pleased to see him.

"Well, long time no see," she said when he approached, coolly.

"Long time no see," he replied, and somehow, it felt good that she didn't hug him.

"You grew quite a beard there, Rick."

"Yeah," Rick stroked his beard absentmindedly before turning around to Daryl and Rose, but they didn't look in his direction to help him out. He saw Carl getting out of the car too, and gestured at him to come forwards, which he did, reluctantly.

"And Carl."

Carl nodded.

"You might as well have given us some notice that you were coming here. After all these years, we hadn't quite expected you back."

"Yeah," Rick said, again.

"Or you could have visited once in a while. Have shown your face, let us now you weren't dead. Might have been nice."

"Yeah." He looked anxiously at Carol's face, and added "I'm sorry". Just when he was starting to think it had been a bad idea coming here without notice, her lips curled into the widest smile he had seen on the Island so far. She jerked back her head in laughter.

"Are you kidding me?" she hiccoughed. "You should see your face right now. Priceless. No, I couldn't be happier to see you!" And she hugged him and Carl, together, and the hug felt good and warm.

They heard a loud thump as the girl that had been sitting on the horse jumped on the ground just inches from Carl. Carl backed away so quickly he nearly stumbled over his feet. Rick turned to look at the girl. Under her big cowboy hat, he could just see the edges of a bright smile.

"Hi," she said, and, turning to Carol, "were you going to introduce me?"

Carol laughed again. "Off course. This is Tai, my first adopted daughter and biggest partner in crime on the farm. Tai, these guys here are Rick and Carl."

Tai shook Rick's hand. She had a firm grip for such a young girl. She then held out her hand to Carl, but Carl just stared from her hand, to her face, to his feet. Tai didn't appear to be insulted or uncomfortable at all. She just laughed, turned to Carol and said: "I'm going to clean up Jerry," and led the horse away.

"Come in," Carol gestured to them, "the kitchen is a total mess, but I should be able to find tea and toast somewhere."

_More food_, Rick thought, and he followed Carol inside.

* * *

In the kitchen, two children were busy cleaning up the biggest mess he had seen in ages, and that included some of the deserted houses him and Carl had slept in during the past few years. Carol waved them away and they ran outside, where the sounds of other children could be heard. They had tea while Carol and Rose chatted, until Tai came in.

"Just came to get Fred," she said happily, turning to Freddy. "I thought you might like to see how Eddy is doing."

"That's my pony!" Freddy said enthusiastically to Carl, who was trying his hardest to look like he couldn't care less. "You want to see him?"

"Yes Carl, why don't you go and check it out?" Rick said.

Carl threw him an angry look but did get up. Freddy visibly swelled with joy and pride as he walked outside before Carl. Tai stretched out her hand to Molly, who had gotten up to follow her brother, and they took off.

Carol blew out some air as she sank in one of the rickety kitchen chairs. "Finally, kids free!" she joked. "Now Rick, what have you got for us?"

This time, no awkward silence fell. Rather, they talked for the biggest part of the morning, asking him questions. They wanted to know what it was like on the road, how much walkers there were and if they had changed, if they still found people alive, what buildings looked like, what roads they had followed. He answered truthful, but economically. The road still looked a lot like it had six years ago, but they had to be even more careful now because the walkers seemed to have grown more desperate, which somehow seemed to have made them faster. Also, many buildings were growing more and more unsteady. They had seen several of them collapse, and a few places had even gone up in smoke. It was increasingly difficult to find food and fuel, and nearly impossible to find bullets. They had their guns loaded all the time, but usually killed with knifes. From time to time, they found people alive, but like the walkers, people had grown more desperate, and it was hard to have any form of human communication.

Carol asked him bluntly about Maggie, Glenn, Beth and Judy. He told her what he had already told Daryl and Rose. Carol remained silent, peering at him with a concentration that scared him, before letting go of the subject. She told him that the first three years of the mission, they had had many people coming in, some who had known all of them, others who had only known Maggie and Glenn or Beth, him and Carl. Usually, people had never had much deep interaction with any of them, but were always able to inform the Islanders a little bit on the mission and the outside word. She left out some information there, and Rick knew what it was, but didn't remark on it. After those three years, when less and less people had been dripping in, they had apparently been sending out people from the Island on missions of their own, establishing what they called the security squad. She also told him that they had been beyond hope they would ever see any of Rick's original mission back.

After that, Carol led them around the farm. She explained that she had been taking in many kids that had been coming to the Island without a responsible adult in their lives or a functional group of their own. Some of them, she explained, had even been send here by Rick's mission. He nodded when he heard their names, although he did not exactly remember. Now, there were thirteen kids still living with Carol. Half a year ago, there had even been as much as seventeen, but being as the house had grown to small, some of the oldest had taken up residence in one of the two houses down the road – "The one that Maggie and Glenn were supposed to have. Yours is still intact though." On the Island, her house had come to have the name of an 'orphanage'. Carol didn't see it that way, laughing off the name as she showed them the horse stables. "If I run an orphanage, then I'm probably more of an evil godmother," she laughed.

It turned out she owned over thirty horses, and the kids took care of them when they weren't going to school. She had once started the stables as a form of therapy for some of the children, but the range had been growing quickly and the children were now even breeding horses for Islanders, as horses had evolved into quite a popular form of transport over the years. When they were at school, the group living in the house down the road worked on the farm. Carol herself had hardly anything to do with the horses, working as Daryl's right hand man ("woman!") in the Island's council. Daryl, who was apparently head councillor, grunted that she really did the bulk of the work, but Carol laughed that off as well. "I wouldn't say that either of us does that much, actually. Not since we have the bank and the court working independently. And let's be honest, it's not yet two thousand people. Not exactly the Free States of America."

After the small tour of the farm, Rose and Carol went inside together to have even more tea. Rick, who felt at that point as though he had enough tea in his stomach for the rest of his days, found himself suggesting they should go and check out the house that was once meant for him and Carl. And Judy. Daryl looked at him.

"Are you sure?" he said. "I mean, no offence, man, but there hasn't been done much in the house in a while."

Rick shrugged. He wasn't so sure anymore himself, but now he had suggested it, he felt like he couldn't back away. "Can we leave Carl here?"

"Sure," Daryl said, "Tai will manage."

And so they left for the house. It was about a ten minute walk from Carol's. He remembered why he had picked the house once: the landscape was beautiful. Like Carol's place, it was lying on a cliff close to the seaside, with enough little pathways to take them to the rocky beach below. When the wind blew, he could taste the salt on his lips. Behind the line of three houses – Carol's, the one that had been meant for Maggie and Glenn, and lastly the one that him and Carl would have taken, possibly with Beth – a green forest stretched out. The house was located somewhere in between Daryl and Rose's house and the small town a few miles down the coastline. Six years ago, it would indeed have been perfect. Now, when he walked past the house that was supposed to be Maggie and Glenn's, and saw smoke coming out of the chimney that he knew was being made by other people, he felt as though he was invading someone else's privacy.

When they arrived at the house, the driveway was nearly flooded with nettles, and other weeds were growing all around the house. The big apple tree still stood next to the small shed. He could see that someone had been taking the fruit. Daryl was sensitive enough to wait outside while Rick went in. Inside, he could see what Daryl had meant. The wooden cardboards that had been hammered in front of the windows had been removed, and the same smell of rot that had once been present in Daryl and Rose's house as well was gone. For the rest, it was clear that nothing had been done about the place in years. Thick layers of dust lay as a soft blanket over the furniture. Walking through the living room, he left footprints on the grey floor. He sat down on one of the couches for a minute, looking around. In the kitchen, he could still see a few cups and plates standing on the dresser, as though someone had just left it there and could return any moment. On the fireplace, a few frames stood, the pictures removed. Somehow, it all made him feel oddly at home – this was what most of the houses him and Carl had lived in over the past years had looked like. When he walked upstairs, he could hear the floor shrieking. He threw quick looks into each of the rooms, until he reached the last one. When he looked inside, he found the little room furnished with only a bed and a pair of drawers. He examined the left wall, that was empty, and somewhere in his mind, a memory shouted at him, but he couldn't trace back where it had come from.

Moments later, he walked outside. Daryl, who had been leaning against the apple tree, staring of in the direction of Carol's farm, turned around at him. "Well?" he asked.

Rick smiled. "It's perfect."

* * *

That evening, Rick asked Daryl to borrow a razor, and took of his beard. When he was staring in the mirror, he was surprised to see such an old face under all the messy grey and light brown hair. Rose came in and asked him if he needed help having the rest of his hair cut. He had her take down most of it in the kitchen. While she was cutting, Carl was sitting on the other side of the table, his face lit by one of the candles. Rick looked at him and wondered when it had been that Carl had started to grow a beard.


	4. Dreaming

**Chapter 4. Dreaming**

Beth's face floated towards him through a cloudy sky. She frowned, the corners of her mouth drawn down. "How could you leave, Rick? How could you do it? Do you think you can continue to run away from us? Do you think you can just keep on walking out and back in again and expect us to be, what… _grateful_ every time you come back?" Her mouth twisted into grotesque lines as it formed more words. "You lied Rick! You are keeping us a secret! Carl…" but he could not hear the rest of her words. "What? What?" he screamed, unable to hear as she continued talking. What was she going to say about Carl? He wanted to touch her, but her long blond hair caught fire, and her eyes, her skin, her lips, everything burst into flames. She cried and threw her head back in pain. When she lifted it up again, he looked into the devil's eyes. Motionless, blue-greyish eyes, just like those that had been Shane's after he turned. The ugly, twisted, drooling mouth spat blood when it continued: "You are walking away from your responsibilities, Rick. How do you think she feels? Have you thought about that? You left us. You left her. You left Judy. Judy. Judy!" As the name resonated inside his head, Beth's twisted face turned away from him. Where Beth had stood, he now saw the back of _her_ head, the long brown hair that had once belonged to Lori falling down her waist. "Judy!" he screamed, but she did not hear him. "Judy!" She ran away without turning around. His hand tried to grab her, reached out, but instead, it got caught up in Beth's flames.

* * *

He woke up with a shock. Sweat dripped down his face. It took him a few seconds to realise where he was. He was in a dark room in Daryl and Rose's house. Carl was sleeping in the bed besides him. Judy wasn't there. Nor was Beth.

Beth wasn't there.

His heavy breathing stopped for a few seconds, than he threw back the blankets and got up. The floor was cold under his bare feet, but he didn't notice. He raced to his clothing lying on a chair in the corner. He felt the pockets of the pants, but they were empty. He felt the pockets of the shirt, but they, too, were empty. His heart stopped for a moment. "No," he whispered into the sky.

He opened the door and ran down the stairs as quietly yet quickly as he could. He opened the door to the bathroom and looked at the corner were he and Carl had dumped their clothes the other night. They were gone. Where could they be? He went for the kitchen, but the kitchen was empty as well. He opened the cupboards, searched the shelves and the baskets, but their clothes were nowhere to be found. Back in the hallway, he tried other doors, leading to the dining room, a sitting room that he hadn't noticed before, a second toilet, and finally – a room next to the bathroom that was vacant but for two giant, old fashioned washing barrels. The exact type his grandmother had used before they had bought their first washing machine. His heart pounded as he went through the room. There was a basket filled with children's clothes, men's shirts with the sleeves still rolled up, kitchen towels and a woman's panties. In the second basket, he found them, still untouched. He searched the pockets of the ragged, smelly pants, and then it was there. The note. It crisped between his fingers as he drew it out, holding it against his chest. Boy, had he been lucky.

He went upstairs again, dressed in the new clothes that were laying on the chair, and put the note safely in the inside pocket of the shirt, close to his heart. Then he walked downstairs and went to sit outside on the veranda, listening to the silence of the night.

* * *

When Rose found him a few hours later, he was still sitting there, looking out at nothing in particular. She was dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe and still looked a bit sleepy, but not too surprised to find him there.

"Hey Rick," she said, yawning, "would you like it if Daryl took you and Carl into town today?"

Rick, still a little unfocused, looked up. Rose frowned.

"Did you sleep at all tonight?" she asked him.

Rick suddenly thought that it must be a bit strange to her, finding him outside and fully dressed. "Yes, very well," he lied quickly, "woke up just before you did, I imagine."

Rose looked at him for a second, but didn't go on about it. "Anyway," she said, "I have to go into school today and I'll be taking the kids over to mrs. Jones. Me and Carol arranged for her to attend the Monday council meeting alone, so Daryl can show you and Carl around. She'll explain."

"School?" Rick asked, surprised.

"O, I keep forgetting what you don't know." Rose smiled. "I'm head teacher of the school. The high school, technically, but being as we're still starting up, you could say I manage the primary schools as well. So, shall I tell Daryl you're joining?"

* * *

It was nearly an hour later - what seemed an infinite amount of time to Rick and Carl, who dressed and ate in just about five minutes - before they were all chucked into Daryl's car again. It was over one and a half hours later before they had taken Rose to the school just out of town and Freddy and Molly to a nosy looking, elderly lady living close to the school, stretching her neck to be able to see into the car. Freddy waved happily at Carl, and Rick knew that in a few moments, mrs. Jones would probably know as much about them as Freddy did. Just a mile further down the road, they arrived at what must have been the most crowded tiny town that Rick had ever seen. Even before they got out of the car, they drew an awful lot of attention - Rick had noticed that everyone else seemed to be moving by foot, bike or horse. When they got out, the attention further increased. Apparently, even in such a crowded town, everyone still had the instinct to realise that there were unfamiliar faces amongst them. Some looked away quickly when they noticed Rick and Carl approaching, but most stared openly at them. Nearly all seemed to know Daryl and be fond enough of him to smile and greet, even though he was in such strange company. One or two even came up to Daryl and asked him whispered questions, which he answered shortly and in an even softer tone of voice. Apparently, word spread quickly, because after that, no one else came up.

Daryl led them through town. There were food stores, a doctor, an apothecary, a fire fighters, a small former police office that was now owned by a 'similar' part of the security squad, and a municipality, were Rick and Carl would apparently soon be registered. There was a little school that was one of apparently three primary schools spread across the Island, connected to the high school run by Rose. Close to the harbour, that was mainly filled with small fisher boats, there was a giant building - the only giant building in town - that used to be a hotel and tourist office. Now, Daryl explained, it functioned as a combination of a hospital, head office for the security squad, and as research lab. At the word 'research', Rick stopped his pace, just outside someone's front door. Somehow, the image of stupid people doing stupid scientific research on walkers came up in his mind. Carl apparently had the same thought, because like his father, he grabbed for his gun, turning his back towards the door behind them. Daryl noticed, but just before he could say anything, a woman suddenly came out of the door. Carl startled, and before Rick or Daryl could stop him, pulled out his gun and pushed the woman up against the wall. The woman gasped and gave a scream.

"No!" Rick and Daryl yelled at the same time. Daryl grabbed the back of Carl's shirt and pulled him away with surprising strength.

"You ok?" he asked the woman, who nodded, looking angrily at Carl.

"Louise, we're sorry," Daryl said. "But will you trust me on this one and let me explain later?" To Rick's surprise, the woman who was called Louise did not question Daryl, but nodded, and quickly got back inside.

After that, they left town.

They spend the rest of the day driving around the Island. Daryl showed them buildings, lands, houses, and told the stories behind them. He explained that they had managed to revive the Island's old water system, just like the heating system, although it only worked on the lower floors of buildings, and not too well in winter. The Island had enough natural groundwater, but the research lab - Daryl gave Carl a look - was working on finding a way to clear seawater, so water would never be scarce. Most of the energy was generated through energy from the sun, the wind, and water, all three of which the Island had plenty. Most generators, such as solar panels and windmills, had been 'imported' by the security squad from the mainland. Energy was still scarce though, and Daryl told them they had set strict rules for energy use on the Island - "although ol' John don' really listen to anybody, I don't know how often Ben from the security squad has had to knock on his door in the middle of the night," Daryl added.

They drove past numerous farms, that not only produced crops - some of which in working greenhouses - but also kept quite an amount of animals. According to Daryl, it had been very hard to find animals alive. They had been lucky with the chickens, of which a lot had run free on the Island and apparently survived, just like cats, dogs and other small but fast animals such as rabbits. They had found sheep and goats on one of the small Islands that had not been occupied - something Rick vaguely remembered - but they had had to import wild horses and train them. This had cost so much time that they had started importing bicycles to solve the transport problem. The hardest thing to find alive had been pigs - walkers were crazy about them - but in the end, they had settled with wild boar from Georgia. Rick decided he didn't want to know when it had been that the security squad had been in Georgia, nor whether Daryl had been with them.

Rick asked him about the reception antennas most houses had. Did they ever receive something? TV, radio? Daryl explained that to their surprise, they had some television stations still automatically sending out signals - news programs on the walker situation still repeating themselves, just like home channels, that send out the same commercials every day. Other channels were blank. Daryl kept quiet for a while, but then continued to explain that nowadays, they used some transmitters for their own purposes. Every household had been given a phone. Two times a day, everyone on the Island had to call in, whether it was from their home, someone else's, or their workplace. When someone failed to call in, an alarm was set of using the Island's old civil defence sirens dating back from World War II. If it sounded, everyone had to get into their houses and lock themselves in, while members of the security squad went to check out the house that had not called in. The chance was always there someone had passed away and turned, and this was their way to keep check. The sick and elderly were made to call in more often. They wanted to make sure there would be no walkers roaming the Island. As soon as the situation was solved, the alarm would ring one time only, so people knew it was safe to get out again.

Rick, impressed, asked if they ever used the system. Daryl laughed. "Far too often," he said. "Suckers not calling in. Forgetting about the phones, not getting there on time." He chuckled. "It happens to Carol nearly every other month, with all them kids running about." He added: "Never happened to us though. Rose always remembers to call in for both of us, even though I'm not there. She knows I'll be ok." He went on to explain that it had happened twice that someone who lived alone had died. One time, the person had been found before he woke up, the other time, they had had everyone locked up in their houses for over three days before they had found the walker. It had also happened 'once or twice' that a walker had been washed ashore, but both times they had not been able to walk and had been killed quickly. For that reason though, it was forbidden to go swimming in the sea in the parts that had not been enclosed in iron gates reaching to the bottom. They were working on enclosing the whole Island with iron gates, but it was difficult and cost a lot of time.

The security squad was one of the largest organisations on the Island, and consisted of people that were responsible for all matters of security: fire fighters, coast guards, a form of police that was referred to simply as 'security' - a decision apparently made by Carol after days of discussions in the council about the appropriate name -, and lastly, off course, there were the special forces. These were trained men and women travelling to the mainland in groups, trying to find survivors, gathering necessities, and generally checking out the situation on the mainland. Time to really go far and do much was scarce. Two years ago, someone had returned with a bite, and died within a few days. After that, regulations had been tightened.

Carl spoke up for the first time that day. "Dad and me could do that," he said.

"Do what?" asked Daryl, looking in the rear view mirror.

"The special forces," Carl said. "We would be great for the special forces. Probably got more experience than all of them together."

Rick felt his heart sink a little. Checking the mirror too, he saw that Carl had his lips pursed together. It was what he always did when he was going to really set something trough. Daryl glanced from Carl in the mirror to Rick. Rick knew he was thinking back about the incident with Louise earlier, and thinking that Carl would probably be terrible for the special forces. But still, Rick couldn't help thinking that Carl was right about them being experienced, and that 'out there' was very different than the Island. He decided to let Daryl solve this one.

"We'll see," Daryl managed.

"See what?" Carl said. "There is nothing to see. It's easy. Get me there tomorrow for my part. I'll show them what I'm like with a gun. Knife. Hands. Whatever. I can walk myself if you want to."

"Ain't gonna happen," Daryl said.

"Ain't gonna happen what? Me walking?"

"Ain't gonna happen you joining. At least not right away. I said we'll see."

"You can't tell me what..." Carl started, his voice raised with anger.

"He can," Rick heard himself saying. "And he's right. We will see."

Carl did not say anything, but instead kicked the side door of the car so heavily, that the old vehicle trembled. Daryl kept his eyes tight on the road, and so did Rick.

* * *

That evening, over dinner, Rick scraped his throat. "Me and Carl were thinking about moving into our own house soon," he said. It wasn't true that he had discussed it with Carl, but as he had expected, Carl didn't say anything.

Rose looked up from feeding Molly, and Freddy, who still spent most of his time at home walking after Carl, dropped his fork. Daryl swallowed a large bite. "For real?" he managed full-mouthed. "What's the rush?"

Rick looked at his plate. He couldn't really think what the rush was. It was more of a feeling.

"We would really like you to stay longer," Rose said anxiously, her eyes wide. "You've hardly had time to grow used to everything. And we haven't registered you yet at the municipality. You haven't even been checked for..." her voice trailed off.

"Bite marks?" Rick filled in. Rose blushed, but Rick forced a smile. "Don't worry. We'll go to that office tomorrow with Daryl. And then we'll start moving."

"But there is no rush!" Rose said. "There can't be any rush. The house is totally... no one has been in it since..."

"It is not because of you," Rick said. "You have taken very good care of us and your family is lovely. We are honoured to stay here. But me and Carl will need some time... to get used to... things. You know."

Rose stared at him, still wide-eyed, as if she wanted to say that she didn't know. But Daryl nodded. "Sure," he said. "We'll get you into the municipality tomorrow. That is, if Rose agrees."

Rose looked at her husband for a few seconds, and then sighed. "Fine," she said. "But will you do me the honour of staying until the weekend at least? Then me and Carol can get some people to get the house cleaned up. As much as we can. Please."

Rick wanted to say that he liked the house the way it was, but when he saw Rose's concerned look, he decided he couldn't say no to that.

* * *

Later, before getting into bed, Rick took the note from the pocket of his jeans and put it under his pillow. He couldn't be sure when Rose was going to want his new clothes clean. He could never lose sight of the note again.


	5. Spiderman

**Chapter 5. Spiderman**

Rose was sitting outside on Carol's porch, trying to work her way through a pile of homework ready to be examined. She couldn't focus. It was eight days ago since Rick and Carl had suddenly turned up at her house, and tomorrow they would be leaving for their own home. Carol, a few friends from town and herself had done quite a good job trying to clean things up, but it didn't look very homey yet. Rose didn't feel good about Rick and Carl moving out at all. Everything sensible about her told her that they had to stay, that they weren't ready. But somewhere deep down, her heart secretly whispered that her own family had been worn out by their visit, and that it wouldn't hurt to have their kitchen to themselves again.

Suppressing these thoughts, she tried to focus on someone's essay on Brontë's _Wuthering Heights_, but it was no good. She looked up at her children, playing a bit farther afield besides a fence, where Tai was riding around Freddy and Molly in turns on Ed's back. The little pony compliantly allowed Freddy to make funny jumps and sudden movements with his bow and arrow, that he had taken with him that day. Several times, she had already had to call out at him, because his wild play was scaring Molly and not to mention bothering Carl. Truthfully though, she thought his play too funny to be very sincere about her warnings. Yesterday, they had had all of the kids watch a movie at Carol's as a special treat. They had chosen _Spiderman_. As usual, the children had been absolutely overwhelmed with what they saw on the old tape. Freddy had decided that today, Carl and him would play at Spiderman, with Carl in the role of the hero and himself starring as Spiderman's enemy, the Green Goblin. Carl, who was standing next to the fence with his arms crossed, had not seemed very happy about it, but Tai thought it all a big joke. She enthusiastically kept calling Carl 'Spiderman', trying to get him to join the children's play. Her own horse stood tight up against the fence, where Rick was absentmindedly feeding it some grass.

Rose looked at Rick. With the beard and most of the hair gone, his skinny face had become more visible. He looked very tired, maybe – all though it was hard to say – even more tired than he had done a week ago. Rose suspected Rick didn't sleep too much. She had woken up several times by his cries. He usually cried out for Judy, but quite a few times, she had been sure she had heard him call Beth's name as well. Nearly every morning, she found him awake before the rest of them. One morning, she could have sworn he was folding a little piece of paper and put it quickly in his pockets when he saw her coming. She wondered what exactly had happened to them. Why had they separated their group in the first place? Was that even the truth, or had they lost the others some other way? She wondered why he so specifically called out for Beth. She thought that maybe throughout the years, he had started to love Beth in another way, but dismissed that thought almost directly – somehow she felt that was not quite it.

Whatever it was that kept Rick awake at night, it was a heavy load he was carrying, and she knew him and Carl were far from removed from the walker mainland. She had discussed this with Carol, and both had thought it wise to keep as close an eye as possible on the two of them. It had led to a nasty argument between Carol and her husband, when Rick and Carl had gone to bed early one night. Carol had told Daryl: "I thought Carl could work with me on the farm. What with Mike and John joining the squad soon, we could do with an extra pair of hands."

"We could do with an extra pair of hands everywhere," Daryl answered shortly, "we have too little fishermen, too little farmers with most having a lot less hands to work with than you, and Charlie's been complaining about a lack of nurses to take on all the nightshifts. And the school needs teachers."

"As if!" Carol replied. "Unless you suggest Carl might be that chemistry teacher Rose is going on about…"

"I ain't suggesting nothing! Thought he might do nicely for the squad. We need to train coastguards and fire fighters, we need people who can handle a gun, and then I haven't even started about those we want to send to the mainland. Men like Carl could do the job."

"Maybe. But not in his current state. My horses have shown they can work miracles."

"Yeah, well, damn much of a miracle you'd need for Carl. 'N you suggesting Rick works horses too, like he's some sort of good for nuthing?"

Rose saw Carol open her mouth angrily, and she intervened quickly.

"Darling," she said, as softly as she could, "maybe if we just keep Carl on the farm for only a few months, really just a few months, and me and Carol could see what we can do for him. And we could ask Rick himself what he would like…" Her voice trailed of as she stroke Daryl's arm soothingly. He had looked at Carol angrily for a moment, then jerked back his arm.

"All right then, Rosie," he agreed, but she knew it was only a temporarily agreement. He hadn't kissed her cheek ever since.

Rose thought back about the time she had first met Daryl. Back in those days, her whole world had been shaken. Woodbury had never felt right, but the prison was even worse. Cold and wet, with too many and too grumpy people. She thought it would be a good idea to move on, but as usual, she had doubted whether to share these thoughts with anyone. Her whole former life, she had basically doubted everything: what to study, what job to work, what clothes to wear, whether to live by herself or stay in her parents' house… But meeting Daryl, for the first time in her life, she had been absolutely sure about something. Ever since, being absolutely sure of things had been as much a part of her life now as doubting everything had been a part of her former life. She had been sure about Freddy, sure about the Island, sure about the house, and even more sure about Molly.

Now, with the arrival of the Island's new inhabitants, she felt unsure for the first time in a long while. She hated that everyone seemed more tense the last few days, just like they had been the first years on the Island. She figured that Daryl, as well, was taking a few steps back to the man she had first met at the prison. Apart from being more tense, he seemed less at ease, less loving even, and at times had an absent look in his eyes. She worried about him as she hadn't done since one of the last days in the prison, when they had been fighting the governor, and he and Michonne had failed to come back at night with the rest of the fighters. Two whole days they searched, before Daryl finally returned with the news of losing Michonne, and a long, bloody gash across his cheek. It was the day he had asked her to marry him and told her he was going to get her her own island. The scar that now marked the right halve of his face still reminded her of both the strongest feeling of joy as the strongest feeling of fear she had ever had.

At the playing field, Freddy shouted something about Spiderman, and pretended to shoot one of his arrows in Carl's direction, who flinched. Actually, the flinch might have looked like Carl was really trying to play it, but it was just a little bit too convincing to Rose. She sighed and got up. "Fredrick Merle Dixon!" she shouted at her son. "Stop teasing Carl and that pony, and this is the last time I will tell you!"

"I was only being the Green Goblin, mummy!" was Freddy's reply, "Spiderman isn't afraid of the Green Goblin!", but he did stop. She sat down, while Rick turned away from the children and walked in her direction. She was happy that he sat down next to her. She looked at him over the Brontë essay. He still had that look in his eyes that told her something was off. He glanced at her and all though she quickly turned back to the essay, she knew he must have noticed she was staring at him.

"What did you call him just now?"

"Fredrick Merle Dixon. His full name. We made that one up when we had everyone registered." Rose smiled. "He really honours that name sometimes you know."

"And Molly?"

"O, Molly is just Molly. When she was born, she had so much loveliness of her own, that we decided we didn't want her to remind us of anyone."

She and Rick both looked at Molly, who was playing on the ground next to the fence, her hair falling over her face and Randy clutched in one of her hands.

"I can see that."

Rose figured that everybody probably could, but she was happy that Rick would notice, despite his current state.

"Ready to move tomorrow?" she asked him, trying not to sound like she doubted that.

Rick shrugged. "Ready as ready gets."

"Good," Rose said. "So how are you doing? I noticed you haven't been a really good sleeper."

This time, Rick smiled. "I have been keeping you awake."

"Hardly," Rose said, smiling back. "I'm a light sleeper."

They watched Molly drive on Ed's back, lead by Tai, and Freddy dancing around Carl. Rose squinted her eyes together and really thought for a moment that she saw Carl react a little to Freddy's crazy jumps, again making a movement that could look playful. Tai said something to Carl, and he made a real, though short, reply. Rose turned back to Rick.

"Rick. If there is ever anything me and Daryl could do, please tell us."

"Thank you," Rick said politely.

Rose pushed through. "I'm serious, Rick."

Rick looked her straight in the eyes. "I know," he said kindly.

Tai walked up to them, leading the pony with Molly on its back. Carl and Freddy followed.

"Mrs. Dixon?" she asked. Just like most kids at the Island, she called Rose by the name she had learned to call her at school. "I was wondering if me and Carl could take Freddy and Molly out for a ride in the woods, on the pony?"

"Yeah, go ahead," Rose said, "just don't go too far and don't stay out too late."

"Sure."

Carl stepped up from behind Ed and turned to Rick. "Dad. I think we should go with them. As a guard."

Tai laughed. "Jesus, Spiderman, relax!" she said, and to Freddy, "come on, let's go get you on that pony as well." She turned and left for the fence, Ed and Freddy following her. Carl bent over the table towards Rick.

"Dad," he repeated, "I mean it. We should go as a guard. The woods aren't safe."

Rick opened his mouth to say something, but Carl pressed on. "I know there are supposed to be no walkers here, but you never know. It can still be unsafe."

Rick looked apologetically at Rose. "Listen Carl, I don't think it's necessary."

"They don't carry any weapons with them! You know what Daryl told us about the possibility of someone dying and turning, or walkers being washed ashore. They'll be helpless."

"Look Carl," Rick said, his voice raised a little, "I said I don't think it is necessary. If you want to go with them, _join_ them, don't _guard_ them. I will stay here and keep Rose company."

Tai called out at Carl from next to the fence. She was sitting on her own horse, and held Ed's leashes in her hand, now with Freddy behind Molly on its back.

"Yo Spidy! If you were still coming you better hurry!"

She started to ride in soft pace towards the forest, leading the pony with her. Carl looked one more time at his dad, his lips pursed. Then he took out the small gun from his back pocket, turned of the safety pall, and ran after Tai.

Rose and Rick looked after them. Rose felt a pang of worry, and she had to remind herself that Carl knew better than anyone how to use that gun. Or at least, she really hoped so. She turned back to Rick, who was looking after them with the same worrisome face. They just sat there, staring at nothing in particular, while the little group disappeared in the woods. After a while, Rose continued the Brontë essay.

When she next looked up, Rick wasn't watching the woods anymore, but was apparently trying to read one of the children's essays. Rose felt a bit warmer.

"Hey Rick? I just wanted to say I think you and Carl will be fine."

"Thanks."

"And remember that if there is anything me or Daryl could do, we would still love to hear it."

"Thanks."

"Welcome."

At that moment, the alarm started running.

Both Rick and Rose froze. If it had been any other time, Rose would have noticed Rick's hand clutching the side of the table and the pupils of his eyes widening. But she didn't. Instead, a strange feeling crept up her stomach and grabbed her by the throat. She had heard that alarm a million of times, yet it had never sounded so sinister as now. She knew that Tai was with Freddy and Molly, and she trusted that girl with all her heart, but Carl being with them too rendered that completely meaningless. The alarm had never rung with Rick and Carl on the Island, and it had especially never rung with her children in Carl's company. She stood up and looked towards the forest. While the alarm raced on, she could feel the tension growing in her body. Behind her, Rick had started to move, and shouted something unintelligible. Then, very clearly above the noise from the alarm, she heard it.

A gunshot.

A very clear, loud gunshot, coming from the direction of the forest where Tai and Carl had disappeared with her Freddy and Molly. The blood drained from her cheeks. A scream rose up in her chest.

"Molly!"


	6. Squirrels

**Chapter 6. Squirrels**

Rick was running. Or rather, his legs were running, while his head was trying to stand still and think. He found it an impossible task over the noise of the alarm. He didn't know what it was the alarms had set of in him. He was shaking, his mind didn't seem to work, and he could only answer to the instinct that told him to run. One moment, he had been sitting, feeling quiet and at ease, the next, the alarms had started running and he had felt his insides turn.

Rose was running in front of him. She was shouting her children's names. She didn't look back to see whether Rick was following – probably, she didn't even care at that moment. A branch from a tree hit her in the face, leaving a bloody cut, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Molly!" she screamed, fear audible in her voice. "Freddy! Tai!"

Just when Rick was starting to feel his side stinging, the small path made a turn to the right. Carl was standing there alone. He looked downright horrible. He was breathing heavily, his eyed spread open manically, staring to a tree in front of him. His hands were clutching the side of his ears, protecting himself, Rick realised, from the noise of the alarm. He had felt like doing the exact same thing when the alarms started – but when Rose had started to run in the direction of the forest, it had been instinct that had driven him after her instead. He stood still, panting, but Rose grabbed Carl and shook him. Rick saw that he was clutching the gun in his hand, holding it so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

"Where are they?" Rose screamed at him. "Where are my son and daughter?"

Carl's lips moved, but no sound came out. Rose turned to Rick.

"Ask him, Rick! Where are Freddy and Molly? What did he do?"

There was nothing that told Rick what to do. He had faced walkers, dead loved ones, numerous killings, but the alarms had gotten to him in an indescribable way. Rose angrily turned towards Carl again. "Did you shoot them? _Did you shoot them_? Answer me!"

"Rose! Rose!" They both turned around at the sound of the voice. Tai's horse came running out of the bushes. Rick could see the panic in her pale face. She stopped the horse next to Rose, who let go of Carl immediately and turned to her.

"What happened? Where did that gunshot come from? Where are they? Where are my children?"

"He was holding them!" Tai cried out. "He was holding the leashes of the pony and then he let go and the pony stormed of!"

"Did he shoot…" Rose started, but she had to catch her breath and broke of her sentence.

"No," Tai said and pointed a trembling finger to the tree Carl was staring at. A blackened hole was visible in its stump. Next to the hole, Rick thought he saw a little splash of blood. "When the alarms started, he panicked, and then he thought he saw something move – I don't know, an animal or just the friggin' wind or whatever – and he shot at it. The horse panicked and then the pony did too, and I could manage the horse but no one was holding the pony anymore and it ran of! Freddy and Molly were still riding him and _I can't find them_!"

Rose grabbed her hair, breathing heavily. The alarms, still running, were forcing them all to think, faster, faster… _That's it, _think, a little voice inside Rick's head told him. _Come on, think, THINK, stay calm, use your instinct!_

He did the first thing he was taught at police training, what seemed like a million years ago now: going for the weapon. He pulled Carl's gun out of his hands, which was hard because he was holding on to it so tightly, and grabbed the leashes of the horse. He still knew perfectly well how to drive one. "I'm going for them!" he said. "I'm going for them right now!" He started climbing the horse, but Rose stopped him.

"Wait Rick, I'm coming!" and when he opened his mouth, "They are my _children_, Rick!" She then turned to Tai. "Get Carl and get to the house! You know what to do. Make sure everyone's inside and everything is locked. Then call Daryl. He will be at the municipality with Carol, if not, try the security squad. Go!" As Tai grabbed Carl's arm and started pulling him towards the house – which obviously took an enormous effort – Rose climbed the horse, and Rick settled himself behind her.

"Come on!" Rose said annoyed, and before he knew, she had grabbed the leashes and they galloped of.

The horse ran quickly. It was obviously already tired from wherever Tai had driven it, but Rose forced it on. They both screamed for Freddy and Molly. There was only a little stretch of forest, but it had many small paths going in all directions. Rick noticed that Rose knew these woods – she would, as they reached all the way to her own home – yet her state of mind didn't allow her search to be very systematic. After a few minutes, he took over the leashes. He startled at every little thing around him – branches moving in the wind, the sound of an animal fleeing away, even little sticks breaking under the horse's hoofs – and he realised how dangerous it had been to allow Carl, who likely was in an even worse state of mind, that gun. He felt angry, and responsible for everything that had happened. Yet at the same time, he wished he was carrying his own gun now, and that Rose would not be on the same horse, slowing him down ever so slightly. _Please, please,_ he pleaded inside his head. _Please let us find them!_

But it was half an hour before they heard the soft, nearly inaudible crying of a small child. He couldn't say who heard it first – Rose, who was so exhausted she had stopped calling out for her children, or himself; but he turned the horse towards the sound even before Rose had straightened up, and shouted: "Molly! Freddy!"

There was a moment of silence.

"Mummy!" Freddy's voice couldn't be far away from them.

"Freddy! Freddy, stay where you are, mummy is coming!"

They raced down the path into a small, open meadow, and found Ed standing next to a tree, chewing some grass. Molly was still sitting in the saddle, quivering and crying softly, but Freddy stood on the ground, his wooden bow loaded. Apart from a few bruises, they both seemed okay. Somehow, however, the sight of Freddy with his bow made Rick feel very sad. Rose jumped of the horse and ran towards her children. Freddy threw himself in her arms as she cried, softly, "thank God, thank God!" and stood up to lift Molly of the pony, holding her tight. Rick didn't notice until then that the alarms had stopped running.

* * *

When they arrived back at the farm, Carol was waiting for them in the hall.

"Thank God!" she exclaimed, and hugged them all. Rose quickly filled her in on what had happened.

"Where's Carl?" Rick asked Carol. She nodded in the direction of the dining room at the back of the house. Rick stomped off passed a crowded living room. He wanted to shout at his son, tell him how angry he felt, disappointed even, that he would never allow him the gun back; but when he saw his son sitting on a chair in the corner, Tai standing next to him silently, he couldn't. Carl looked even worse than he had done in the woods and was obviously still in shock. Their eyes met, and Rick let out all his anger in one breath. He sunk to the ground against the wall opposite Carl.

Moments later, Carol walked into the room, followed by Rose. Rose looked at Carl, and just like Rick, the anger in her eyes mixed with a little pity. In the living room, most of the children had gone very quiet. From where he was sitting, he could see a few pairs of eyes looking around the corner. It made him feel very uncomfortable. Tai noticed, and moved to shut the door. They all drew a deep breath.

"Carol just told me that when Tai called, Daryl immediately took them here on the motorbike," Rose said. "He took of into the forest when he heard we weren't back yet, and he's still there." She started moving towards the door, but Freddy grabbed hold of her hand. "It wasn't Carl's fault, mummy," he said. "He just thought it was the Green Goblin. I think he got scared because he thought it was the Green Goblin, while it really wasn't." Rose looked down at him for a second, then sighed. "We'll stay here then, until daddy comes back. Make sure we'll see no more Green Goblin." And she sat down in one of the uncomfortable dining room chairs, Molly on her lap and Freddy at her feet, not too far away from Carl.

Out all of the things she had done, Rick could not have explained how much this meant to him.

* * *

Darkness had long fallen before Daryl finally arrived at the house. Molly had fallen asleep, but woke up when Carol went to open the front door. Carol had cooked a giant meal, helped by some of the children – "we always have spaghetti on alarm nights", she explained – but no one had eaten much. The alarm had sounded one very short time, to let everyone know that whatever danger there had been, it had gone. Carol had called a friend at the security squad, who had told her it had been false alarm.

Daryl walked directly into the dining room. He looked dirty and sweaty, and Rick immediately saw that he was beyond angry. Without looking at any of them, he walked towards Rose, who had gotten up, and took Molly out of her arms, holding her to his chest. His free arm found Freddy and pulled him close. For a second, he closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were burning with fire.

"Daryl…" Rose started, but he interrupted.

"So what's the deal? What's happened? What's that?" he said, pointing towards the cut on her cheek. "And that?" gesturing down at Freddy, who had a small bruise on his arm.

Rose quickly explained to him what had happened. Rage flickered in Daryl's eyes.

"Are you crazy?" he said, glaring at Rose. "Are you crazy letting them of with that mad little asshole over there?"

"Do not call my son an asshole," Rick started more calmly then he really felt.

Daryl turned around at him, and in the same movement, pushed Molly back in Rose's arms. "Your son is one crazy asshole. Walking around waving that gun! Coming into my house, threatening my children!"

"He didn't threaten…"

"I told you days ago Rose don't like guns in the house and she was right! He could have killed one of them, for God sake!"

Rick felt some of the guilt make way for anger. Before he knew it, they were both screaming at each other.

"My son is not crazy! No less crazy than yours, with those 'fake' arrows!"

"That's for his own good, and from today it's obvious he needs them!" Daryl screamed back, glancing at Rose. "_Yours_ is apparently much less capable to carry around any weapon!"

"It was an accident! He'd never shoot it at Molly or Freddy!"

"Accident? Accident? Had he missed, my boy might be dead! Had that pony ran into the arms of a bunch of walkers, my girl might have ended up something's dinner!"

"It was the sound of those alarms. We didn't see it coming. He wasn't prepared. Those alarms you have put up around here scared the hell out of everyone, including your wife!"

Rose opened her mouth to say something, but Daryl cut right through her. "Those alarms have proved their value in the past! And at least I'm doing all I can to protect my family!"

"And I'm not?" Rick suddenly realised where this was going, and a deep nausea came up inside him. "What the hell do you think I have been doing these past six years?"

"Well, putting your own blood in danger, for one! You could have known it would end up badly years ago, when you left! What the fuck were you thinking anyway, leaving and taking two lil' kids with you?"

Carol moved to step in between, but Rick stopped her. This could be what everyone was thinking – at the very least including himself – and he needed the chance to speak up. "Those were _my_ decisions, they were made years ago, Carl was grown up enough…"

"He sure doesn't look like a grown up!"

"Well yeah, unlike _you_ he hasn't quite been bathing himself in luxuries on some sort of stupid little island while the rest of the world was going to hell!"

Daryl licked his lips. His eyes flickered again, and Rick knew he had hurt back.

"Screw you. Screw you, Rick." And then, "You know what? You don' even seem very surprised at what he's done, ready to defend that mad kid of yours. Did he had an 'accident' in front of Betty or Judy as well or something?"

"Daryl!" Rose exclaimed, shocked, while Rick felt his insides freeze. Daryl turned towards Rose so quickly that she backed of a little. She looked sad.

"And you, letting them of! Who knows what could have happened?"

"Not much," Tai interrupted dryly from the corner, "He just shot a tree."

Daryl glared at her. "You can all…"

"Shut up!" Carol shouted. "Just shut up, all of you!"

They all fell silent. For a few tense seconds, no one said anything, until Freddy turned to his dad.

"He thought it was the Green G…" he started, but a soft, beautifully sweet voice interrupted him.

"Not Geen Gublin," Molly whispered. Everyone, including Daryl, turned towards her. "Squiwel. The squiwel scared him. I seen it." She turned to Daryl, her lips trembling and tears glistening in her eyes. "Is squiwel dead, daddy?" she asked.

Everyone but Daryl looked at Carl. Carl stared at the floor. Rick remembered the little splash of blood next to the blackened hole.

Daryl pulled Molly from Rose's arms and wiped away the tears at her eyes with an amazingly tender touch. "No," he managed, in a much softer tone of voice. "I think the squirrel is fine, sweetie. Probably ran of and told him squirrel friends to get out of there. That squirrel will be just fine, eating his mum's dinner."

"Okay," Molly nodded, and put her head softly on Daryl's chest. "I wanna go home now, daddy."

"Sure girlie, dad's gonna get you home," Daryl whispered, and turned towards Carol. "Bike's out of gas. Had to walk the last part. Can we borrow your car?"

"The car hasn't been used…" Carol started, but her protests were useless. Within ten minutes, the little family had driven off.

Rick and Carl stayed behind at Carol's, where they spent the night. Because all of Carol's bedrooms were full, they took a bunch of sleeping bags into the dining room, where they were joined by Tai. Rick didn't have to be afraid of dreaming of Beth's face again, because this time, he didn't sleep at all. Instead, he repeated Daryl's words in his mind, over and over again.


	7. Stories You Don't Want To Know

**Chapter 7. Stories You Don't Want To Know**

Rick closed the door of his house behind him and started walking up the path towards Carol's house. He was a bit nervous. Carol had decided that it was time they would have an intimate dinner together – him, Rose and Daryl, herself, and Carl. It would be the first time Daryl and Carl would spend that much time together since that big fight three months ago. Since then, Rick and Carl had moved into their new house. At first, it had been quite a relief to have that much time to themselves again, but soon the four walls of the house had started to come up to him; especially those of the tiny upstairs bedroom with the empty wall, where Rick had decided he would be sleeping. He was still haunted by the same dreams nearly every night. It was usually Beth he saw, but now it was sometimes Maggie or even Glenn whose faces turned into ferocious monsters. The dream always ended with Judy running away from him, although he never got to see more of her than the back of her head.

He had been happy to receive Rose as his first visitor a few days after moving in. She had been alone, and the first thing she did was hugging Rick and Carl and crying. Rick had felt extremely uncomfortable, padding her back nervously while she had sniffed how terrible she felt after the row, that she wanted things to be better between them, that she felt things had been hard on all of them, and more of that kind of stuff. She had invited them over for dinner and Rick had gone, deciding last minute to leave Carl at Carol's, who seemed very happy to oblige. Between him and Daryl, none of 'that stuff' had happened, and although they were being civil towards each other now, things had not returned to whatever there used to be between them.

Rose had confided in Rick that Daryl spend much less time in the municipality and much more time outside in the woods these days, patrolling and hunting. He was also more active in the security squad, and had taken up the task of sailing over to one of the small islands, where a man called John lived all by himself. Apparently, he always defied the rules on energy use and had to be checked on regularly. According to Rose, Daryl had even gone there in the middle of the night once or twice. Rick understood that Daryl felt bad about that night, and noticed that his behaviour had changed a little, especially towards Rose. It pained him, because he could see how hard it was on her. To Carl, Daryl hardly paid any attention whenever they were in the same space together, although Rick wasn't sure whether this was out of anger, or purely because he had no idea what to say or do around him since that night. Whatever it was, however, the air was often chilly these days.

Molly and Freddy had been well shaken after the events of that night. Rose had told Rick she had seized Freddy's arrows, which had resulted in a long row with his dad. Maybe to make up for his own behaviour, Daryl had spend a lot of days in the woods afterwards, only to come back late one night with a living baby squirrel he had captured for Molly. Molly had been delighted, and had since managed – with Tai's help – to feed and tame the squirrel, who now ate out of her hand and travelled with her everywhere. To Daryl's obvious displease, Freddy had offered the name 'Carl' for the squirrel, which had soon been adopted by the rest of the household. In order to make sure there would be no confusion, Tai nicknamed the squirrel 'Hairy Carl'. Hairy Carl now spend most of his days having tea (or rather, sharing peanuts) with Randy.

Carol's farm came into view as Rick turned the corner. Carl was already there, helping Tai in the stables. He spend most of his days on Carol's farm these days, working with the horses. He was always with Tai, who seemed to be the only person able to have actual conversations with him. Rose had been visiting the farm a lot with Freddy, Molly, and Hairy Carl, and Rick had noticed Carl was growing more or less fond of them, even helping Molly to feed the squirrel. Actually, Rick had noticed Carl's behaviour had generally improved a lot since that night. Most notably, Carl had been very proactive on calling himself and Rick in, even to the point were he had gotten slightly paranoid over being in their house at the phone at exactly the right time.

In the passed three months, the alarm had rung twice. The first time it had been because someone had failed to report in time, the second time because an elderly lady living just outside town had passed away in her sleep. She had not been found until two days later, walking in someone's backyard. Everyone had had to keep inside during these days, and because Rick and Carl had been at Carol's, who had not been too prepared, all sixteen of them had survived on spaghetti, coffee, ice cream, and some very old, smelly crumpets. After the old ladies' funeral, attended by half of the community, a meeting was held in which Rick took part, on the subject of putting age limits on people living on their own. It had been a long and boring few days, and so far, no consensus was reached, as many elderly members of the community had protested. "That's the trouble with democracies," Carol had joked afterwards.

Rick and Carl had met the community about two months ago, in a big, public party in the town's square that was given in their honour. They had been greeted as heroes, as many of the Island's inhabitants still remembered Rick and Carl from having 'saved' them and send them here. Rick had been polite, although he had not felt at ease at all and had not really remembered any of the grateful faces that came up to him. Carl had only managed the first few minutes of the party, and had then taken of. Rick now went into town more often, sometimes to go to one of the mandatory doctor's visits that he and Carl had to go to in their first months, other times to attend more council meetings with Carol and sometimes Daryl. He was never very active in them – actually, he never said anything at all – but it gave him something to do and something different to think about. Going into town, he was now often greeted by people. Louise, the woman whom Carl had pushed up against her own front door their first day in town, had even brought him a basket of homemade muffins once, giggling. Rick sighed when he thought back about the slightly embarrassing memory. He knocked on Carol's backdoor politely before walking in.

* * *

Daryl and Rose were already there, and Rose had helped Carol to set the tables. The big table in the dining room was being used for all the children, including Freddy and Molly, the smaller kitchen table was nicely done up for the intimate dinner Carol had planned.

"I thought it would be a good idea to just have a little dinner between ourselves," Carol said, dividing potatoes over nineteen plates. "It's been a long while."

"It is," Rick nodded, but by the time him, Daryl, Rose, Carol, Carl and Tai, the latter who had chosen to join them, were sitting around the table, he felt slightly uncomfortable. He could see that that at least counted for Carl and Daryl as well. They ate in silence for a while, until Carol spoke up.

"Haven't seen you in the council for a while," she told Daryl. "Where have you been all day?"

Daryl glanced at her. "I had gone to work at Hershel's. You know. Just checking out the lighthouse and seeing if ol' John's doing alright."

"How is John these days?", Carol started – but Rick interrupted her. "Hershel's?", he asked, surprised.

"Yeah," Daryl said, "you remember that crappy little island we used as a getaway when we got here? Named it in Hershel's honour."

Rick hadn't thought about Hershel in a long while. He remembered that when they had come here, Hershel had told everyone enthusiastically that this would be a new start. A change, a chance to do better. But along the road, just before arriving, they had gotten stuck in a group of walkers. They had managed to fight their way out, but a few of the mixed prison and Woodbury group hadn't survived. Hershel's remains were never found. It was one of the main reasons Maggie and Beth had been so keen to leave the Island with him, even though Rick had tried to stop them.

It was silent for a while, and Rick figured he probably wasn't the only one thinking about Hershel. He scraped his throat, and managed: "Old John? Heard that name before. Isn't he the one who doesn't like the rules on energy use?"

Carol, Daryl and Rose laughed just a little bit too loud.

"Yeah," Daryl said eagerly, "Old bugger lives over there all on his own. You could say he's some kind of hermit. It always costs us so much effort to get over there and tell him to stop using that much electricity."

"Why? What does he use it for, living on all his own?"

Daryl shrugged.

"O," Carol said lightly, "I think that really is the kind of story you don't want to know." They all laughed.

"So what's up with the name?" Rick asked. "Hershel Island?"

Carol smiled happily. "You remember that just before he died, Hershel was always talking about the Island, about how good it would be? He was always the first to defend Daryl's idea about finding an Island, right?"

"I remember," Rick nodded.

"Well," Carol said, "we wanted to honour him in some way, even though we couldn't bury his remains. So we built him the lighthouse as a monument – although really it is a monument to all of the people we have lost – and named the Island in his honour. Hershel Island."

"That's beautiful," Rick said.

"And this one?" a hoarse, quiet voice asked. It was Carl. Rick thought it very brave of him to speak up.

Tai turned to him. "You mean why we didn't name this island Hershel Island instead?" she said, and Rick saw a little twinkling in her eyes. Carl nodded, looking at his food.

Tai exchanged an amused look with Carol. "You tell them," Carol said.

"They didn't make up a name for any of the Islands until a year after their arrival here," Tai explained. "By then, they thought it would be nicer to vote about a name for the Island. You know, so everyone in the new community would feel a part of it." She glanced at Carol and smiled. "And they voted to name the Island 'Hope Island'."

An uncomfortable silence fell. Rick glanced quickly at Daryl, who had stopped chewing and grunted. Carol and Tai were grinning widely. Carl glanced tensely from Tai to Carol to Rick. Then they all burst out laughing at the same time. A few pieces of food flung from Daryl's mouth. Rick felt his tummy hurting as he laughed like he hadn't laughed in years. Even Carl tried a nervous laugh. Carol, eyes shining naughtily, coughed, laughed, and finally managed, "you can see why we just refer to it as 'the Island'. 'Hope Island' sounds like an episode from fucking _Dallas_ or something." and then "'Hope Island'! Someone should tattoo that." It was a long time before anyone managed to spoon up any more food. They were all happy to feel the pleasure of laughing together again, and Rick was especially pleased to see Daryl chuckling over his steak. They exchanged looks, and for a few moments, he felt like everything could someday be okay again between him and Daryl.

After desert – a delicious, giant cake – Carol made them all coffee. While they were drinking the hot beverage, chatting amongst themselves, Carol gave Rick a few of her piercing looks. After a while, she had apparently decided on something, and put down her coffee.

"So, Rick," she said, "Tell us about the stories _we_ don't want to know."

It had gone very quiet. Everyone looked from Rick to Carol.

"We know about Maggie," Carol said, and she didn't sound accusing, but rather, truly curious. He could see the same curiosity in the looks of the others.

"We know she was pregnant," Carol continued. "Tai's group was send here by Maggie and Glenn when she was, and they told us."

Rick lowered his head a little. He looked at Carl, who was clutching his coffee. Carl looked up at him and Rick immediately saw that he would be fine with him telling the story.

"She was," he said slowly. "Pregnant." Rose let out a soft sigh and grabbed Daryl's hand. Rick continued. "She gave birth to a pair of twins about a year after we left on the mission. Two boys. Billy and Jimmy. They were both in good health and I cannot tell you how much Maggie and Glenn loved them. How much we all loved them.

'We were more careful, afterwards. Especially with the twins. We used to create small safe havens, leaving the children there while we were on the mission. Billy, Jimmy, Judy. Although Maggie and Glenn would have loved you all to know about the twins, we decided to never tell any of the people we send to you, just to make sure they would be safe… from… anyone who might have bad intentions. We told you surviving people on the road are much more savage these days. Sometimes Maggie would stay with them, at other times it was Beth or Glenn, or Carl.

'One day, when we were about three years on the mission – the twins were nearly two years old – we decided to go on a run. Or at least, that's what we told Maggie and the twins, who we left behind in the safe house we then used outside some small village. We were heading for an old, deserted toy shop Glenn had found along the road, to get the twins presents for their second birthday. Judy, who was then five, was taken with us for the first time, because we knew the shop was safe and she really wanted to see all the toys. We thought the experience would be amazing for her, and it was. I had never seen her…" Rick paused. Everyone listened intensely. "I had never seen her look so much like a child." He looked up at Carl, who nodded fervently. Tai glanced over at him.

"We came back to the house loaded with toys. Beanies, toy cars, games, dolls, wooden building blocks… we had it all. Never had so much toys for the kids. But when we arrived at the house, it was eerily quiet. We got out of the car and it smelled like rot everywhere. We all felt it. Glenn more than anyone. He shouted Maggie's name, and the sound triggered them. Walkers. They came out of the house, clothed in fresh blood."

Rick had to draw a deep breath to be able to continue.

"We killed every last one of them, but it was too late. There had been too many. When we came in, we found Maggie and the twins. Maggie was far gone. We could see from her body that she had used it to protect her children with her life. But it hadn't been enough. The twins had been bit and killed."

Carol clasped her hand over her mouth in horror and Rose nearly crushed Daryl's. After a while, Carol asked: "What happened afterwards?"

Rick lowered his eyes. "Beth was sick with grieve. We all were. Glenn – Glenn was much beyond that. He nearly turned into something like a walker himself. Finally, Glenn and Beth decided that they wanted to bury Maggie and her sons where she had once been truly at home."

"Hershel's farm," Carol whispered, and Rick nodded.

"We went there. A big part of the farm, including the barn, had been burned to the ground, but a part of the old house still stood there. We moved into it – it was empty and safe enough – and buried Maggie and the twins under an old tree on the farm's grounds. We stayed there for a few weeks, and then me and Carl couldn't… the atmosphere… we decided to leave and continue the mission. We promised we would soon be back for them on the farm, and we were. But as you know, they were gone. We searched for three years before coming here."

He stopped the story there. Thinking back about the sight of Maggie lying in a pool of blood on the floor, the two tiny little walkers at both sides of her, feeding from her, the grieve on Beth's face, the way Glenn's soul had seemed to slip out of his body… it was nearly too much.

From across the table, Carol looked at Carl. "What makes you think they might still be alive?" She asked Carl, but it was again Rick who answered.

"Because there was nothing there. No blood, bodies or walkers. Just like Carl said. And most notably – there were no bags. Clothing. Toys. Items we had gathered we loved. The car. The only thing we found was one single, dried flower, lying on Maggie's grave." He managed the rest of the story only without looking at Carl. "It was obvious they had left on their own accord. They could be anywhere right now. With the skills they have grown over the years, chances they have survived are there. And you must understand that after what happened to Maggie, the relations within our group were… strained, to say the very least. Somehow, we could imagine – can still imagine – that they wouldn't want to be found."

No one moved. A single teardrop fell from Rose's cheek to the table.

Carol drew a deep breath and got up. "I think we could all do with something strong, don't you think?" she said. "I have some whiskey up in my room. And as it is, I have to call us all in anyway." She got up and left. No one said anything.

Rick pushed himself up from the table. His hands were shaking. "Bathroom," he muttered, and walked to the hallway.

* * *

After calling the security squad, telling Ben, who was on duty, that they were all fine, Carol searched her room for the bottle of whiskey. While going through the drawers – she knew she had a bottle somewhere, just _where_ had she been keeping it – she thought about dinner. Her and Tai had managed to get Carl to consent to take his beard and his shoulder-long hair of that day, and decided it was a good reason to throw a small party. Carl, she thought, might actually be heading for something close to a life. She had noticed that he had looked a little less like Frankenstein when he had tried that laugh of his. She figured that Tai's efforts to humanize him might finally be paying off. Rick, on the other hand, was still the current main topic of her worries, especially after the story he had just told her. Maggie's story had truly gotten under her skin, but somehow, the idea of Rick and Carl finding the farm completely deserted, was even worse. She wondered what part of the story Rick was leaving out, if there was any. She didn't know what would scare her most: the idea of there being more to the story, or the idea that this truly was all there was to it.

She finally found the bottle of whiskey under the bed, and walked back downstairs. Just before turning the corner, she heard a little sob from behind the stairs. Rick was standing next to it, leaning against the wall, reading a very old, yellowish, crumpled piece of paper. He was crying. Carol froze for a second, then walked towards him. Rick looked up, folding away the piece of paper in the same moment, and wiped at his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, and Carol threw her arms around him.

"It's okay," she said, and kissed him softly on the cheek. Rick made a sound as more tears came out, and Carol laughed softly. "Really Rick," she said, as she looked at his face. "How will you ever get a date if you keep on going about like this? Do you call that romantic?"

Rick half sniffed, half laughed. "What's this? You're making fun of my social life while you're living here with what… thirteen underage orphans? How would you call that?"

Carol laughed. "I call _that_ crowded."

Rick laughed with her, and after a while, was able to wipe away his tears.

It was then that they heard the alarms again. Carol and Rick looked at each other. She noticed that his reactions to the sound were nearly unnoticeable now; he hardly even flinched.

"I'll take the front door," Rick said, and left to close up. Carol quickly moved to lock the kitchen door and routinely check for the windows. Five minutes later, the six off them and all of the kids sat cramped together in her living room. Molly was sitting on Tai's lap on the couch, clutching Hairy Carl, Freddy next to them. Just when she remembered she was still carrying the bottle of whiskey, and that it would probably be better to keep it away from the kids, the phone rang. She exchanged glances with Rose – she really thought she had called everyone in this time – and went for the phone.

"It's old John," she said moments later to Daryl and Rose, who stood next to the door. "He didn't call in. Ben tried to call him, but he's not responding. Ben is sending some people there, and he is asking you to go with them." She looked at Daryl. "You know, because you're somewhat experienced with sailing there by night, and you know John well."

Daryl nodded. "We'll just have to go past the house, get my bow," he said.

Rose made a small sound, but said nothing.

"I'm with you," they all turned. Rick, standing in the corner with Carl, had spoken up. "I can do it," he said, "if you will allow me?"

Daryl and Rick stared intensely at each other. Then Daryl nodded. Carol did not feel like it was a good idea at all, but if it would make things better between Daryl and Rick, it was fine by her. The chance that something was really wrong was small anyway – knowing John, he had now probably just decided to refuse to use the phone for some reason. She did, however**, **decide she would go with them, just to keep an eye on Rick.

"I'm coming," she said.

"You should take my gun," Carl said. She turned to him, surprised. "You still have it here somewhere, don't you?" he continued, and then, breathing in, "I don't think I'll be needing it. I'm staying here." To show his good intentions, he walked to the couch, where Tai, Freddy and Molly were sitting, and sat down next to them. He grabbed the back of Freddy's shirt, as though he was going to make sure he would keep them safe, and stared into the fireplace with a determined look on his face. Tai smiled encouragingly at him, and Hairy Carl sniffed curiously at his namesake.

"Good," Daryl said, nodding in the direction of the couch in a way that nearly looked appreciative. "Let's get that gun and get going."


	8. Old John

**Chapter 8. Old John**

Standing on the edge of the motorboat taking him, Carol, Rick, and Garreth and Leo, two of Ben's men, to Hershel's, Daryl allowed himself to feel the cold wind September had brought. He had taken nothing from home but his crossbow, still wearing the same jeans and shirt he had been wearing these past four days and counting. He had gotten up every morning before Rose woke up, and didn't come back until late at night. He missed his family, but somehow he felt like he had deserved to miss it; the smell of a hot cooked meal, Rose's and Molly's smiles, Freddy's enthusiastic stories. He glanced at Rick, who sat only a few metres away from him, Carol stubbornly behind him. Rick's presence had made him feel uncomfortable, incapable of being a leader. He had fled back into the forest and had left Carol to attend the council meetings. She would understand, he hoped, that he simply wasn't cut out for these things. Other people were much more capable. And anyway, Rick was attending most meetings with Carol nowadays. He felt a sting of jealousy at the thought.

Hershel's drew nearer, while the sound of the alarms decreased in intensity. There had been no alarms on the small island, and being as old John was the only one living there, they had not bothered to install them. Daryl was glad to be away from the sound. Over the last few months, he had found himself flinching whenever the alarms rung, remembering Rick's words about them scaring everyone. It wasn't true that it had been his idea to use them – that one was on Carol as well, as most ideas seemed to be – but still, he did feel responsible for them. He knew very well that it was a good thing that they had installed the alarms, but Rick saying that they had even scared Rose, and seeing a flinch of the truth in her eyes, had hurt more than anything. How could it be that Rick had apparently known about the alarms scaring Rose while he had been with her only once during the alarms, and he, Daryl, the man she was supposed to love, apparently never noticed? For a moment, he found a childish voice inside himself wondering if Rick had come to take away his position and his family as well, although he knew this was utter nonsense. On top of everything else, he now also felt ashamed and angry with himself for even imagining that.

In the distance, the lighthouse signalled their way in. The monument looked beautiful, although the memory of many Islandmen building it was the real beauty of it. Daryl turned to Garreth, who was at the steering wheel, and helped him find his way; after several night's at John's, the first ones with Ben – a veteran of nightly John visits – he knew how to avoid the rocky parts of the shore.

Before the boat hit the beach, Daryl saw a small, rusty rowing boat laying racked on the beach. He felt something stir inside his chest. Was it shock, or excitement? As soon as their boat was anchored, he made way for the wooden ruins. There was nothing special to find in the wreckage, apart from a but all too familiar stanch. "Walkers," Leo whispered behind him, and they all drew their guns and bows before making it for the only building at Hershel's other than the lighthouse that had directed their way: the small house just up the cliff that was old John's. The lights were burning brightly, and Garreth sighed.

"That old bugger," he muttered under his breath.

Daryl would have given him an angry look, but it made no difference in the dark. For all he cared, he and maybe Ben were the only ones who had gotten to know John well enough in the past few months to call him 'an old bugger'. John had given him food now and then when he came to visit and hadn't want to make it home in time for dinner. John, not very fond of company himself, had understood his sentiments without having to ask about them.

Knocking on John's door, there was no answer. They walked past the windows, checking all of them, especially those in the basement, where light was burning, as usual. They finally tried the backdoor. It stood wide open, and in Leo's flashlight, Daryl immediately recognised a bloody handprint next to it. He cursed and went inside. He checked the kitchen and the basement, while Rick and Carol went to the living room, and Leo and Garreth to the hallway.

"Cleared," they said to each other when they met at the foot of the stairs.

They looked up, and saw that the stairs were barricaded by what seemed like a small wardrobe thrown down. A few clothes had fallen over the banister. A trail of blood led upstairs. Daryl immediately ran up, and together with Rick, moved the wardrobe to the side just enough to be able to push through.

"Daryl," said a feeble voice coming from one of the rooms.

Daryl turned around and followed a few bloody footprints inside a small bedroom.

"Hey son. I knew it was you," said old John hoarsely. Daryl swallowed when he saw him sitting there. He was bit badly. He was holding his left arm, soaked in a dripping red cloth, and a small pool of blood had already formed around him. Daryl felt a deep sadness in his chest for the old man who had been so good to him these past few months.

"John," he muttered.

"There were three," John said. "They arrived in a small boat. Could have been floating the ocean for ages, the skinny they were. I came down because I thought it would be one of you, telling me to phone or put the lights of or something, and I didn't see what they were until one of them got to me. I had no weapons, but I struggled free, though," he added proudly. "Killed one of them. One of the other's followed me all the way back here though, and I barricaded the stairs with all the power I still had. Bastard went outside. Looking for food I guess. I swear, those buggers seem to get smarter by the day. Have no idea… where they went. Could have gone… anywhere." His voice trailed of.

"John…" Carol whispered.

"I know, girly, it will have to be done. Daryl?" he asked.

Daryl nodded, but before he could move closer, they heard a noise just outside the house. Rick and Daryl moved towards the door at the same time. Carol got up as well, but Daryl stopped her.

"Stay here with John," he said. "Garreth, guard the door. Leo, come with us."

The three of them went downstairs and checked the house again, but there was nothing. They went outside and split up. Leo and Rick went left, Daryl right. He moved trough the grass surrounding the house swiftly. He listened to every sound, checked for every possible movement, looked around for traces, but there was nothing. On the other side of the house, Leo and Rick walked towards him.

"Must have been an animal," Daryl said, but in the same moment, Leo's eyes widened. Rick was quicker. He pulled out Carl's gun and shot it at Daryl. Daryl moved aside, feeling the bullet go right passed his head. One second, he really thought Rick was trying to kill him, the other, he heard a heavy body falling to the ground. They faced each other, panting. Then he turned around and saw the walker lying on the floor, just inches away from him. He looked back at Rick and smirked in what he hoped would be an appreciative way. Rick half smirked back.

When they came up again, Carol looked up from next to John, whom she had been talking to softly.

"I heard a gunshot," she said.

"That's alright," he heard Rick say behind him. "A little accident, that's all. Only one more walker left."

Behind them, John let out a throaty sound. They turned to him and saw he was doing all he could to keep awake. Carol blinked back some tears, but then stood up and turned towards the men in the doorway. Garreth and Leo looked aghast, Rick was pale.

"Come on, Rick," she said. "I'm going to take you outside now."

Just before she could leave, John told her: "Hey, Cary girl. Don't forget to tell him, will you."

Carol smiled, nodded and then took Rick outside.

"I knew you'd come," John said gratefully, turning towards Daryl. "You are not the type of man to leave your people in need, Daryl. Not you. Remember that." John looked into Daryl's eyes as he continued after a few seconds: "Bury me here, at Hershel's, will you?"

Daryl nodded.

"Good. Go ahead then."

* * *

They covered John's body in a white sheet and locked down the house, Daryl making sure he was the one putting out the lights in the basement, ignoring the other's curious looks. After that, they started to search the island. It was only a very small piece of land - you could literary walk around it in less than two hours – and they knew it by heart from having lived there a few months in the past. But still, the walker seemed to have disappeared entirely. They walked for many hours, growing colder and more tired by the minute. Knowing that it was impossible the walker would actually have disappeared – not even walkers were stupid enough to walk right back into the sea – they tried what had worked once in the past: luring it by lighting a small fire on top of the highest hill. They sat together huddled around it, but everyone was to cold, tired and shocked by John's dead to say much.

"This ain't working," Daryl complained after what seemed like another few hours. "Let's just go and try again tomorrow, in daylight. We'll just take John with us in case it manages to brake down the door."

The others nodded in agreement. They got up and had already extinguished the fire when they heard a nasty sound coming from the bushes. The walker grabbed a screaming Leo from behind. Rick, closest to Leo, threw himself upon it without hesitation. It collapsed under his weight. Together, the two of them fell to the ground. Carl's old gun rolled away as the walker turned his gawping teeth towards Rick. Within seconds, Daryl had loaded the bow and shot the walker in the back of his head. This time, it was Rick who nodded in improvement.

"Thought I'd return the favour," Daryl grinned.

Walking back to the boats, Daryl, whose eyes were best used to the dark, led the way. Although happy they had found the walkers, sadness for John kept them all silent. When they were nearly back at the beach, Carol ran up to walk beside him.

"Do you want to know what he wanted me to tell you?" she said. Daryl shrugged. "He wanted me to remind you, when necessary, that you are your own man."

She paused and looked at Daryl, who said nothing. "But I always knew that. I told you way back when we had only known each other shortly, remember? You always were."

Daryl said nothing, but he felt the same pride bubbling inside him that he had felt when Rick had talked about Molly's loveliness three months ago. In the same moment, he noticed that it wasn't as hard leaving John behind as it could have been, even though he felt a great sadness over the way the old man had had to die. Walking towards the boat, he suddenly felt like he was heading homewards.

* * *

When he had made sure that Leo and Garreth at the steering wheel were talking amongst themselves, and that Carol was apparently fixed on the lighthouse behind them, he turned towards Rick. Old John's last words hadn't taken away all of his apprehension towards him, but they had made Daryl remember things from long times ago; memories of Hershel's farm, memories of looking for Sophia, of the prison, of shooting an arrow through the head of a walker moments before it was going to fling itself at Rick's head, of being made into the leader of the settlement, of waving goodbye to Rick. They had gone trough worse. Looking at Rick, he wondered what to say. Now, he hated that the alarms only sounded for half an hour before being turned of, and had stopped ringing hours ago. He would have appreciated the noise at this moment.

"Rick," he started, but Rick interrupted him.

"It's okay," he said. "Don't."

"No. I have to…"

"You really don't. I get it."

The two men watched the Island come nearer.

"I don't want to be the leader of this settlement, you do know that, don't you?" Rick said.

"I sure as hell don't want to either."

"Yeah, well. I guess you're better cut out for it, though. People in that council talk about you everyday. People in the town asking for you. They're missing you."

Daryl looked down at his hands.

Rick suddenly smiled. "So what is it exactly that costs that much electricity?"

Daryl smirked, recognising the policeman, but wondered only for a moment whether he could say it.

"Weed. Just a lil' bit, for himself."

Rick looked at him. One second, he raised the policeman's eyebrows, the other, he started smiling. Then, both men laughed beneath their breath, making sure none of the others would hear. Daryl knew that only a few people on the Island would laugh about old John growing cannabis in his house, and one of them was Rick.

* * *

It was dusk when him and Carol arrived back at her place. They walked inside, closing the door behind them softly, as the kids had long since gone to bed.

"I'm going to call Ben and explain," Carol whispered. "Check if Leo and Garreth got home alright. You go up to my room, Rose'll be there."

She was right. Upstairs, Daryl opened the door to Carol's bedroom to find Freddy and Molly sleeping in her double bed. Freddy was snoring softly, and Molly was sucking her thumb. Hairy Carl, lying at Molly's feet, woke up when he entered, but continued sleeping when he saw who it was. When he looked at the squirrel, he felt the same small pang over the name that Rose must have felt about the name 'Randy' for a female doll; but it really was no more than that. His eyes searched the room and he saw Rose lying curled up in a big chair next to the window, wearing Carol's morning coat. She was sleeping. The curtains behind her were opened, and the last bit of moonlight lit her face. He didn't want to wake her, and kept very still, standing in the doorway. From what he could see, she had been awake a long time, looking out of the window for him and Carol.

He lowered the bow and arrows of his shoulder, and the wooden floor under his foot creaked. Rose woke up with a start, looked around, and then fixed her eyes on Daryl. It was just light enough to see them soften.

"You're home," she whispered, "I was so worried."

When he saw her lying there, barefooted and having obviously gone without sleep for most of the night, he suddenly felt very stupid for every part of his behaviour the past three months. He hated feeling stupid. He moved towards her as fast as he could without waking their children, kneeled next to the chair, and buried his face in her hair. It smelled of him and her together.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"It will be fine, you know," she answered. "Me and you. Everyone. We will all be fine. Stop worrying."

"I know," Daryl replied to her ear. He didn't even need to work up much courage to add: "I love you."

Rose made a soft sound, somewhere between a cry and a laugh. She looked up at him. "I love you."

Daryl kissed her, cherishing the softness of her lips on his, feeling as though it was the first time he touched her all over again.


	9. Down Memory Lane

**Chapter 9. Down Memory Lane**

Rick stood on top of the cliff next to Carol's house. He had the note formed into a ball, ready to throw it far away, so it would hit the sea and be taken away on the waves. Standing there, he wondered why he hadn't noticed before how beautiful this spot was, especially on such a sunny autumn day as this one. It had a lovely view over the seaside below, where he could hear the faint voices of Daryl's family. They were below at the rocky beach, playing. Tai and Carl sat together on a pair of rocks, watching Freddy demonstrate a new set of arrows Daryl had made for him – real fake ones, this time, as Rose had checked. A few metres away, Molly was running after the waves and back again, screaming with pleasure every time the water hit her feet. Daryl and Rose stood close by, Rose bent down with her arms outstretched to catch Molly every time she came running back.

Rick stared at Rose through squeezed eyes, wondering if she had meant it when she had said that she thought Carl and him would be fine. Recently, he hadn't felt fine. Actually, he hadn't felt _un_fine either – it was more like he hadn't felt anything for a while, and that now, remaining put on the Island, doing nothing, his thoughts and feelings finally caught up with him. He had enjoyed being at Hershel's the past few days with Daryl and Carol, first that night when they killed the walkers, then helping to bury old John and clean out his house. It had numbed his mind, just like the boring council meetings had over the past few months. It had done even more than those meetings: it had given him the faint feeling of being on the road again, of having a sense of purpose.

But now, his thoughts had found their way back to him. They weren't happy thoughts. The dreams of Beth's face seemed to intensify every day. Sometimes, he even heard her shout at him by day now, although when he was awake, it was harder to make out what she was saying. It was like she wanted him to do something, and no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't figure out what that was. The last couple of days, memories had been searing up inside him, trying to find their way to his mind, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't catch them. _Think, come on Rick, remember_, he would tell himself, but so far, it hadn't worked.

His eyes fell upon Daryl. Even though he was too far away to make out his face, Rick could tell from his posture that he was happy again, or at least happier than he had lately been. He knew that things were better with Rose and he was truly happy about it, but it made him feel a little sad at the same time. Between him and Daryl, there seemed to be an insurmountable difference. It was like Daryl and him were always moving along two extremes of something he could only describe as a polar divide. Before walkers had taken over the earths, Daryl had never had any true family life, or, for that matter, any notion of true love, apart from the little there had been between him and his brother. Rick, on the other hand, had grown up in a warm, steady family, bound together by strong ties. It had only been a logical step for him to marry Lori at a very young age and create a similar, solid little family, as this was what he had been taught to do. In the same way, Daryl had been taught to go bye on his own, keep to himself without any others involved, and had done just so.

When the walker apocalypse had happened, him and Daryl had been well shaken, stirred by times and events, and had been thrown out of that time machine in the end, finding themselves on the other extremes of the divide. Rick had lost his home, his best friend, his wife, and now also, possibly, his daughter. At times, he even felt like he had somehow lost the connection to his son. Love and life had deserted him, and in return, he had failed them back. On the other hand, Daryl had found himself a beautiful and very real family, with a loving wife and two sweet children that were his own blood. His family ties were strong enough to make him want to create a safe haven like this one, especially for them, and to pull their family through rocky times like these. He had learned what it was like to truly love, while Rick could only hope he would ever feel like that again.

Of course, the apocalypse had shaken the lives of a great many people, Rick was aware of that. But little of them had been at such extreme ends of the divide as him and Daryl. Very few people had found so strong a family as Daryl had, while coming from such a low spot as him, and little people had lost so much as Rick had without dying themselves in the process. Rick now understood many moments between him and Daryl. He understood why they could look at each other and know the others' feelings, why Daryl had always been behind his decisions and he had supported Daryl's, why they had collided so heavily when he had invaded Daryl's happiness on the Island. He knew that because of the way their lives had turned, there would never be two people on the world understanding each other better than him and Daryl. They both knew what it was like to have everything opposite to having nothing at all.

It was a cruel thing that they had never been able to meet each other at the same end of the divide, nor that there was any chance they ever would. Considering his thoughts, they couldn't but scare Rick. If this divide was somehow a real, solid thing, if it wasn't just something he had just come up with, if they lived unable to both have so much happiness at the same time, if the fragile balance of such a divide would break if they tried to find each other on the same side; that meant the other was apart from a true an understanding friend, an eminent danger as well. Rick was sure Daryl had felt that fear over the past few months, with Rick returning while his family was doing so well, and Rick had felt that same fear when he had left the Island over six years ago. He could have left Judy and Carl here, could have forced the others to stay. He could have been on the mission for a few months every year and then return back to his family. Now, his decisions seemed less of a mystery everyday. Leaving Judy and Carl with Daryl, wouldn't that have meant that it was Daryl's time to have a family, _Rick's_ family even, and Rick's time to lose? He had figured, hoped, that running away from the Island would have given them both a chance to win, but he now realised that his plan had backfired on him.

_This is ridiculous_, he told himself, _you're being stupid_. It could not possibly be that it could ever only be either him or Daryl who could be truly happy. That didn't make any sense at all, did it? It would be something that was in their heads, no, in _his _head, that was a fact. He would just have to stop thinking it, and it wouldn't be so anymore. He raised up the paper ball in his hand and moved his arm backwards. Just when he was about to throw, however, he was stopped by a voice behind him.

"Hey, Rick."

It was Carol. He lowered his arm, not even bothering to hide the ball in his pocket this time.

"Lovely day, isn't it?"

Rick smiled. "Talking weather, aren't we?"

Carol laughed apologetically. "Right," she said. "Actually, I was wondering something." She looked at him and seemed to carefully consider her words before speaking them. "Now, if you don't want to tell me, you don't have to."

Rick waited patiently.

"I was wondering why Maggie, when she had the twins, didn't return here?"

_You see_, the voice in his head said_, it isn't just you who couldn't. It was Maggie as well, at the very least. __This might not have anything to do with you and Daryl after all._

"I couldn't be sure," Rick started slowly, contemplating. "But I did ask Maggie once whether she wanted to come here, you know, just after she had the twins. You know what she said? She told me she'd rather have the twins grow up in the real world, then have them grow up on an Island where they would lead a happy life until the day came the place would be overrun. She'd rather have them grow up knowing what the world was like then ending up disillusioned about it later."

"What about you?" Carol asked. "Do you feel that way?"

Rick thought about that for a moment.

"The truth is, Carol, I would love to say that I don't, but I would be lying. Maybe this Island will never be overrun, and everyone deserves this chance, and the longer I live here, the more I believe that. But maybe Maggie was right, and we're just fooling ourselves. But then again, at the same time, I think that even if that was so, Maggie might still have been wrong in another way. Because when I look at them" – he nodded towards the happy family down the cliff enjoying the seaside – "I cannot help but wonder if those few years of happiness wouldn't turn out to be worth it after all."

Carol smiled. "That's a beautiful thought."

"This is a beautiful place to think beautiful things."

"That's true," Carol said, "I always come here to think them as well."

_Think_, Rick's mind shouted at him, again, _think beautiful things_, and the memories that had been searing inside him impatiently started to work it's way upwards faster. He focussed hard on these thought, while the people below at the beach collected their stuff and came back up. When they reached the top of the cliff, he still hadn't remembered what it was he was supposed to be remembering, but a few vague images were becoming more and more visible. The group greeted them as they walked by. Rick saw that Freddy and Molly's cheeks were red from the cold wind. He noticed that Daryl had his arm around Rose, and that Carl, walking next to Tai, was carrying Hairy Carl, tugged away in his jacket. The short hair looked really good on his son. He seemed to be looking his years more and more these days, instead of at least ten years older. Walking by, they greeted him; Tai waved, and Carl looked up and smiled at his father. Rick smiled back and turned to Carol, who invited him to join them at the dinner table.

"No more stories we don't want to know this time," she promised with a wink.

"Sure, I'll be there," he agreed, but figured that there was something left he had to do. A flash of an empty wall hit his mind, and he couldn't walk of now. "I'll be with you in half an hour tops, okay?" Carol nodded, looking after him as he turned around and walked back to his own home.

* * *

Inside the house, he walked directly up the stairs and opened the door to the tiny bedroom that was now his. He sat down on the bed and stared at the empty wall across the room.

And then the memory finally popped up in his mind's eye. He was not looking at the empty wall in his own room anymore, but he was in Daryl and Rose's kitchen, standing in front of the green cupboard that he had noticed there the first day him and Carl had returned to the Island. In his arms, he was carrying a two year old girl, looking a lot like Molly. Yet she was just a little bit taller, her hair darker and longer, and when she turned her face towards him, a shock went through his body. Lori's dark eyes were looking at him, and it was her. Not Molly, but his own, tiny Judy, six years ago the exact same age as Molly was now.

"Can I have it, daddy?" she asked, pointing towards the cupboard. He understood that it was not the cupboard she meant – little girls didn't care for such things – but that it were the little doorknobs on it, round and layered in pretty pink flowers.

"Judy, love," he heard his own voice say, in a tone so very different from what it was now, "we can't take a whole cupboard from uncle Daryl and auntie Rose just because you like the flowers, can we?"

Judy pouted. "But you said we would be moving so many things, daddy. My bedroom is nearly empty. I don't like it."

"Maybe, if we ask them very, _very_ nicely, they might say yes, okay? But I cannot promise anything."

"All right then, daddy," Judy agreed, smiling widely, and although he wanted to stare into her face forever, drink up the dark eyes and every other feature of his daughter, the vision was slowly taken away from him, and Daryl's kitchen transformed back into the small bedroom with the still empty wall. A wall that he had never allowed his little Judy to fill.


	10. Bye Bye Baby

**Author's note: This is the final chapter to this short story. Thank you very much to everyone who has been reading, reviewing, or even following. I appreciate constructive reviews that help me improve my further writing. If you want me to respond or have any questions concerning the story or its characters, do ask. Lastly, if you liked this one, keep check on my account, as I will soon be writing more. **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

**Chapter 10. Bye Bye Baby**

Carol had not bothered to separate the tables this time, and so there were now nineteen people crammed around the dining table. Their noises camouflaged Rick's quiet entering; he was a lot later than the half an hour he had promised, but Carol had set aside a plate for him. When he looked at it, he noticed he was hungry. He sat down between Carol and Carl. From across the table, Rose and Daryl beamed at him, and Carol, next to him, winked. He winked back, and she laughed; heartily, with her head thrown back in her neck. He started eating, and noticed how used he had gotten to eating so much food. The meal tasted good and wasn't burned; Rose must have been helping Carol in the kitchen. He smiled, somehow liking Carol the more for the fact that her household was more chaotic than any other he had ever known.

While eating, he watched the others around the table. Molly was feeding Hairy Carl squashy-looking pieces of potato and Daryl and Rose next to her were looking very much in love. Freddy was making jokes; Carl was more or less laughing about them, led by Tai. He enjoyed the moment so much that he nearly forgot he had a job to do, that there was a future path lain out for him. He looked up.

"Rose," he asked, "do you remember when you asked me, before, if there was anything you and Daryl could do? For us?"

Rose looked up, surprised. "Yes," she said, while Carol looked at him with interest.

"That cupboard in your kitchen. The green one. The one with the rose doorknobs. Do you know which one I mean?"

Rose nodded.

"I think – and don't hate me for asking – that it would look very nice in my bedroom. You know, the small one. It's so empty and we have… nothing suitable to put in it." Which was only a very tiny lie. "You can choose any piece of furniture from my house in return. Several pieces, if you want to." Which made that previous lie look rather silly, he realized.

But Rose smiled. "You can have whatever you want. Anything. We don't need a trade. We'll bring it by tomorrow if you want."

"I'd make you a cupboard, though, if you need one so bad," Daryl said. "Or a wardrobe. I could do that."

"No," Rick said. "I'd like that cupboard." He focused on his potatoes, suddenly feeling shy. "Always liked it," he muttered under his breath.

The others stared at him curiously, but no one commented on the strangeness of his request.

"That's alright," Daryl said simply. "I'll make Rose a real pretty new one then, right Rosie?" Rose laughed and kissed him.

Rick felt a lovely, warm feeling creep up his stomach. He smiled and turned back to his plate.

* * *

Later that night, after dinner, he strolled outside in the direction of the seaside. The sense of purpose that had gotten over him when he was out at Hershel's with Daryl and Carol, had triumphed when he had managed to get back the memory of the cupboard and secure it for Judy. He knew that Rose would make good on her promise, no matter what. Judy's wall would never be empty again. When Rick reached the top of the rocky cliff, he realized he finally knew what to do. It made him feel both happy and sad at the same time.

Behind him, he heard the excited screams of some of Carol's children. She had promised them that they would be allowed to go out to the beach to see the sunset that night. He heard Carol call after them: "Do _not_ go into the water, and leave someone on watch!" Behind him, he heard footsteps running away. While he stood there contemplating life, the sound of the voices slowly ebbed away down the pathway to the seaside.

After a while, Carol found him sitting on a rock, still overlooking the sea. The sun had just begun the set. Between his fingers, the little note crumbled. He didn't look up when she asked him: "So. Are you going to tell me what that note is about yet?"

Rick sighed. He knew that Carol would not be fooled.

"When we came here…" he started. "No. I have to begin where I left the story the other night. When me and Carl returned to the farm, we were ready to take Judy here, safely. But as you know, they were all gone. No blood marks, no unpacked stuff, no bodies. They left nothing. Apart from one thing. They left a note. This note." He unfolded it an gave it to Carol. The note was so old that the words had nearly been wiped out; they were only barely readable.

Carol seemed to hesitate for a second, then took the note and read the words that Rick knew by heart:

_Dearest Rick,_

_I hope, we all hope, that you and Carl will be back here soon. We cannot wait any longer. A few days ago, Glenn found another group of walkers only two miles from the farm. Our bullets are nearly gone. We are not overrun, but we cannot stay. I feel like a fool for having tried._

_I know that you are searching. I hope that you will find what you are looking for. I do not want to be looking any longer, and I think Glenn feels the same way, even though it will be very hard for him to say goodbye to Maggie and the twins. We want Judy to have a home and we know you do to._

_Today we will be leaving for the Island. Glenn went on an old-fashioned run and returned with enough gas for the car, so we should be able to make it with a few days non-stop driving. I cannot believe how much time it took us to see that the Island really is the only place for us._

_When you are ready, come and look for us, but do not make it too long. Your daughter is waiting._

_Beth_

Rick could nearly feel Carol's heart sink while she read. "They were coming here," she whispered.

"… and they never made it," he added. "I knew that from the moment Rose told me that first day that Daryl was alive. If they would have arrived, she would have mentioned Judy right away." He took a moment while Carol sank down next to him.

"Are you sure – sure that the note isn't – that she really meant to come here?" Carol asked, her voice nearly gone.

"I flatter myself to think that I knew them well enough by then to be able to say that this note states the truth," Rick said. "They wanted to come here. They'd die before changing that decision."

The sounds of the sea seemed suddenly very, very away from them.

"I never told Carl, you know," Rick continued. "About the note. He never knew it existed. I know that was wrong. But somehow the note felt all wrong anyway. And I wasn't ready… I just couldn't… This Island means – means so much. It is a place to settle, but after all these years, I don't feel _capable_ of settling. I had my home, I had my settled life, and it is gone. The whole world is gone, for god sake. Everything this Island meant seemed false to me, just like it must have once done to Maggie. At that moment I thought, that if we would just keep on going, searching, for Beth and Judy and Glenn, for more survivors, for a way out of this walker mess, we could find something. We could find that old world back. It looks like I have been made for that old world, and that at the same time, I can't leave this new one behind. I can't live anymore like you do. And I knew back then, that I could not be a good father to Judy any longer, if ever I could. So I decided we couldn't go to the Island, and I pretended there had been no note, and that they could be anywhere; that it wasn't so that if they were still alive, they could only be here.

'Instinctively, Carl must have guessed some part of the truth though, because in the three years following, he never mentioned the possibility of looking for them on the Island. I don't think either of us ever believed we were truly going to find them back alive, not even while I knew about the note. It's like there was a small thread attached between me, him, and Judy, and that thread got cut the day we found the farm empty. Maybe it even got cut before. Maybe that's the reason we decided to go back to the farm in the first place. At some point, I even felt that maybe Carl would never be able to stop roaming the earth either. But I was wrong.

'One night, I was ready to tell Carl the truth about the note. Tell him that if they were still alive, if they had made it, they could only be on the Island. But before I could tell him anything, he chose that moment to tell me that he thought we should come here. It was always his idea, you know, coming here, although he made me promise I wouldn't tell anyone. He didn't even presume we should come here to look for them. He never mentioned 'giving up' either, although I know that must have been what he felt. When he said that, I knew that at that moment, the note didn't matter anymore. It didn't even matter whether they would have made it here alive or not. Nothing mattered. What mattered was that I knew that Carl would be fine, because he was ready to let go and look for the next chapter. I realized it was my last chance to be a true father to at least one of my kids."

Around them, it had gone slightly darker as the sun nearly touched the sea. The waves crashed on the rocks below. For a while, they just sat there in silence.

"So what are you going to do?" Carol asked.

"I was going to throw the note in the sea. But I've changed my mind. Instead, I am going to ask you to deliver Carl the note when you feel the time is ripe. You don't have to, but it would be nice if you could somehow find a way to explain it to him. I know you could."

"Of course," Carol said. She paused for a moment before adding: "I take it that means you are leaving?"

Rick smiled sadly and looked down at his hands. It was just like Carol to see right through him.

"Yes. After all, she is waiting for me."

He gestured towards the note.

"The note says so. Beth says so. Do not take too long. 'Your daughter is waiting.' So that's what I'll do. I'll just go back and continue searching, until I find whatever it is that I'm looking for. Wherever she is, whatever she is, whatever it will take me to join her, she needs me. I took away something from her by taking her away from the Island six years ago, and I need to find a way to give it back. Maybe that's what I'm meant to do in this world."

The sun had almost disappeared now. A rosy, orange-red light spread across the sea. They could faintly hear the voices of some of Carol's children in the distance, below at the beach. He knew that Carl was out there somewhere as well, looking at the same sunset with Tai. The thought was comforting.

"Please try to explain to the others. Try… try to explain to Carl, although I don't think he will need much explanation. And I'm sorry I cannot stay here with you."

He waited and then added, "I might be back one day."

Carol laughed, not a sarcastic laugh, but a strong, beautiful laugh.

"I hope you don't mind I won't be waiting for you."

"I know, Carol. I don't expect you will."

He stood up silently and kissed her on the top of the head. His eyes blinked one, two, maybe three times. Then he turned around and walked away.

**The End**


End file.
